


In the Cold, Cold Night

by HelenaPlum



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Angst, Eventual Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, House Mormont, Jon Snow Knows Something, Jon Snow is King in the North, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Multi, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Burn, Starts Canon, The Prince That Was Promised, Uhh not sure where this is going yet, Warg Jon Snow, but the idea wouldnt leave me, lots of swearing, love story but dramatic, tagged for general ASoIaF violence and nastiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2020-05-31 18:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19431877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenaPlum/pseuds/HelenaPlum
Summary: The daughter of a traitor, a wild thing that isn't a wildling, a true Northern woman. Orinna meets Jon Snow before he marches off to the Wall, determined to follow him to the ends of the earth if she must.





	1. Edge of a Burning Light

With the Great Walls of Winterfell looming ahead of them, Orrina spurred her horse forward, sore and aching from her long journey. She had no idea how her grandfather was holding up, but he looked mostly unaffected by their trip, besides the dirt that settled in his wrinkles and stench of the road from traveling. Orrina shifted on her saddle and hoped that they would reach Winterfell soon, she wouldn’t be opposed to a long bath and to be rid of her horse for a while. 

“Weren’t the Starks expecting us tomorrow morning?” She turned and asked her grandfather, brushing dark brown wisps from her eyes. They had woken up early, and hadn’t stopped to rest since waking. It may still be summer, but the mornings in the North still held a chill, it made Orrina pull her fur cloak up around her neck just that much tighter. 

“Aye, they are.” Her grandfather answered gruffly, only taking his eyes off their path to glance at her briefly. There were still hints of his handsomeness in his old face, hidden under wrinkles and age. “But it does us no good to laze about and waste time. Ned Stark will welcome us, no matter how early we are.” His raven had injured his wing, and was unable to deliver news of their new arrival time.

Orrina simply nodded and again dug her heels into her horse, agreeing with her grandfather, there was no point in taking a leisurely stroll. She had lived her whole life in the North, she was familiar with its sights and after nearly 3 weeks of sleeping on the cold ground, fearing wildlings in the woods, she was eager to meet the Starks. 

“How long will we stay?”

“Not long. As long as we need.” He was not a talkative man, her grandfather. And he certainly did not seek her counsel on their business with the Starks. “You know I cannot be away for too long.” He didn’t trust leaving her behind, knowing the sort of trouble she could find herself in. “I will ask what I need of Lord Stark, and then we will make the trip home.”

The word home came out thickly, almost like it had got stuck in his throat but Orrina understood. This was not a leisure trip, this was one born of necessity, and even though it was a hard long journey, he expected her to be ready to make it again in a few days time. 

Orrina would not disappoint. 

The pair rode in silence the rest of the way to Winterfell, the sounds of the Godswood coming alive around them. Birds chirping, their horses hooves, the quiet slap of the axe she strapped to her back, hitting her shoulder blades. She was surprised by her grandfather’s lack of insistence she change before reaching Winterfell. Orrina wore long breeches, a boiled leather jerkin and a sword on her hip. Her hair was long, she was due for running her knife through it, it hung in dusty waves down her back, she knew that her eyes were tired and worn from their trip. Dirt caked her fingernails, the smell of forest and mud clung to her. She was hardly a sight for the Warden of the North. 

Her grandfather’s horse pulled a cart of their few belongings they brought with him. In her trunk, carried a two plain and well worn dresses, but it was hard to ride a horse like she was in a dress. Still, she was surprised when they rode straight to the gates of Winterfell without him insisting she try to clean herself up and at least store her weapons away. 

The guards called out to them, causing the pair to pull their horses to a stop. A single call from a man on top of the wall, asking who they were. Not anyone would just be let into the gates of Winterfell, and they weren’t expected until the next day. 

“Lord Stark is expecting me, we arrive a day early.” Her grandfather yelled back, loosening the reins on his horse. “I am Jeor Mormont, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, I come to meet with the Warden of the North and bring my granddaughter, Orrina Mormont with me.”

****

**JON**

He was practicing in the yard with Robb when he heard the men at the gates call out. Jon knew his father was expecting the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, but he thought it would still be a few more days, he was hoping that Benjen would accompany the Lord Commander, it had been some time since he had seen his Uncle and it would be a welcome face in Winterfell. 

He knew in the past Lord Commanders had journeyed from the Wall, down to Winterfell to meet with the Warden of the North, but Jon couldn’t remember Jeor Mormont ever making a trip down to their home. Usually it was Benjen who traveled to them with news from the Black Brothers. He was curious as to what brought the Lord Commander out from behind his icy walls, but his father was just as clueless as he was. At least he acted that way in front of Jon. 

Distracted by the sound and the possibility of visitors, Robb was able to land a painful blow to Jon’s side with his wooden sword, laughing hysterically as he did. Jon started to laugh with him, until Theon Greyjoy joined in and his laughter quickly died in his throat. He never cared much for his father’s ward, finding him arrogant and obnoxious, and he knew that he was just laughing at him, not at his distraction like Robb. 

“Reckon the Lord Commander is here already?” Jon asked Robb as they stored their practice swords. Bran and Arya zipped by them, also hearing the commotion at the gates and were racing to see who could get there first and to see who their guests were. 

“Maybe. Father hasn’t said much about the Old Bear.” Robb mused his auburn Tully hair and watched as Ned Stark followed after Bran and Arya, shouting at them to stop running. “Maybe he made good time,” he shrugged. 

“Suppose we should go find out then.” Theon interjected, with a smirk already walking away from the brothers and towards the gates. 

Jon walked at Robb’s side, trading what little information they had about Jeor Mormont until they caught up with their father and the rest of their siblings. As much as Jon wanted to stand tall, next to his brother and his father, he took a step back. If it was truly the Lord Commander, he shouldn’t take a spot next to Ned Stark’s true born children. Even just his respectful distance could be seen as offensive, most everyone looked down on bastards and he had no reason to think Mormont was any different. 

When the gates opened, and the Lord Commander came trotting through them, Jon was surprised to see the old man without more men of the Night’s Watch with him. He expected at least 5 brothers or more. Instead the grizzled old man only rode with two brothers who trailed behind him and a girl who rode beside him. 

It was the girl who surprised Jon most of all. And by the sounds of their murmuring, his siblings as well. Arya started to open her mouth to question who she was, but was silenced quickly by Ned’s hand resting on her shoulder. There were no women amongst the Wall, so she wasn’t a member of the Watch. The men swore a vow to take no wives, so she wasn’t married to the Old Bear or any of his men. 

He watched as Jeor Mormont dismounted his horse and made his way over to the Stark family, but his eyes were really on the dark haired girl who mirrored his movements. He watched her gracefully slide off of her mount, like she had done it a million times before. He watched as she shook out her dark brown hair, and watched the Lord Commander with matching dark eyes. She had full lips, big eyes and most curiously, dressed in men’s clothes. She wore breeches, and mail, and a long furred cloak. All dyed black, despite the fact she was not a Man of the NIght’s Watch. 

Jon was so stricken by her face, her eyes which watched Jeor Mormont with most carefulness, that he almost missed the sword she carried on her hip and when she turned to stroke her horse’s mane, the battle axe strapped to her back. 

“Lord Stark.” Jeor greeted his father respectfully, but with a touch of warmness. He had been Lord Commander many years and was very familiar with Ned, and not just through his brother Benjen. 

“It’s good to see you Lord Commander Mormont,” Ned grasped his hand and then looked towards the girl who was making her way to them slowly.  
“I hope you don’t mind, I brought my granddaughter Orrina with me. I don’t like leaving her at the Wall, the rare times I venture out.” So even his father wasn’t aware the girl was coming, Jon thought that was interesting. He didn’t even know that Jeor had a granddaughter. He didn’t know much about Bear Island though, or it’s Mormonts, but surely he would have remembered the Lord Commander had a grandchild. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Lord Stark.” It seemed that the girl called Orrina appeared suddenly behind her grandfather’s shoulder. “I would curtsey but it’s not as graceful when you aren’t in a dress.” She cracked a grin but still bowed respectfully. The sight of her smiling instinctively made the corners of his lips start to turn until Jon realized what was happening and forced his lips back into place.

“It’s been some time, I can’t say I remember the last time I saw you Lady Orrina.” 

“It was when you came for my father’s head, and found him and his Southron wife naught but a whisper in the wind.” Despite the harshness of her words, her face nor her voice reflected it. 

“Ignore the girl, she spends too much time with the worst of the Wall and forgets her manners.” Jeor shot her a sharp look, which Orrina had the sense to turn her head down and try to look shameful but Jon swore he saw her grinning still. There was a pause in the conversation before his father cleared his throat and took the moment to introduce his children to the Old Bear and the Young Cub. Jon felt a bristle of pride when he called him his son.

“My Lady wife is with our youngest, Rickon, along with my other daughter Sansa. They will be at supp tonight. But you must be weary from your trip,” Ned continued, looking at Orrina Mormont with a curious gaze but not offended by her bringing up Jorah Mormont's failed beheading. “Let me show you to your quarters, Arya can show Lady Orrina to hers.” 

Jon noticed Arya looked positively pleased at this and rushed forward to Orrina, a million questions about to spill from mouth. “Is that your sword? Can you fight with it? What about that axe? Can I look at it? Have you ever thrown it at anyone?” Ned had barely departed with Lord Mormont, with Robb and Theon following on their heels when Arya burst. 

Orrina just laughed, and Jon watched her make the familiar motion of musing Arya’s hair. “Aye, the sword and axe are mine. And I know how to fight with both of them.” She humored the girl, looking up, not sparing a glance at her grandfather’s retreating back, nor Robb’s, nor Theon’s. right at him. The smirk from earlier was still on her lips and she offered him another twitch of the corner. “Come, Lady Arya, show me to my room, I could use a good scrub.” Her eyes lingered on Jon another moment before reached for Arya’s hand. 

“Will you show me how to use that sword? I’ve only ever used wooden ones. I’ve never tried an axe before!” Arya pulled her along, away from the group of boys, and was almost through the doors of Winterfell when Septa Mordane rounded on Arya.  
“Where have you been Arya?” The Septa asked cooly, hands on her hips. “You were supposed to be in lessons with your sister.” 

Jon watched, several steps away as his sister tried to argue with her Septa, using the arrival of their new guests to excuse her absence, stammering over her words. Jon knew she hated the Septa, and sewing with the other ladies. Jon hefted a heavy sigh and although he wished he could follow his father and Robb, that wasn’t his place. 

It was Robb’s. It was Robb who would become Lord of Winterfell, it was Robb who needed to learn how to welcome guests to their home, and how to be a proper host. He wanted to trail behind his father, listen to his words, talk to the Old Bear, but he was a bastard and it wasn’t the bastards place. 

So Jon sighed again and approached Arya and the Bear’s granddaughter, and even more fearsome, Septa Mordane. “It is true, Septa. Lord Stark bid Arya to show Lady Mormont to her quarters.” It burned him not being able to call his father, his father but he kept his words polite and nodded respectfully towards the Septa, ignoring Arya’s triumph squeal. 

“And it was Lady Stark who ordered me to collect the girl and get her ready for dinner.” The Septa would not back down, especially not the Bastard Snow. 

“But!” Arya started but was quieted when Jon gently squeezed her shoulder. 

“Go with the Septa, Arya. I’ll show the Lady to her room, you shouldn’t ignore your Lady mother,” even if her Lady mother hated him. 

“I promise we will talk more at dinner, Arya. I would hate for you to get in trouble on my behalf.” Orrina interjected warmly and mused the girls hair again before turning to Jon. “After you,” she bowed slightly and Jon wasn’t sure if she was mocking him or not. That seemed to happen to him a lot, he thought annoyed and turned and started inside with a brisk turn and no comment.

****

**ORRINA**

She waited until Septa dragged Arya away, nearly kicking and screaming before turning back to the Bastard boy. He was the first one Orrina noticed, not the boy with auburn hair, or the older smirking one. His long face, and solemn eyes stood out to her and although Orrina liked the Stark girl, for the first time in her life, she thanked the Seven for their interference. 

Jon Snow was frowning at her, and she wondered why she found it endearing. She had only known him for a few minutes, but Orrina was starting to wonder if the bastard ever smiled. 

“I’m no Lady, so you know. And I’m certainly no Lady Mormont. That’s my Aunt Maege.” She followed, keeping her pace with him. 

“I was being polite. That’s how you are supposed to speak around ladies.” He refused to meet her eyes, a twinge of pink creeping into his cheeks. 

“I suppose so, but I’m not a lady. My father sold slaves, and escaped his punishment,” she looked ahead, tearing her eyes away from Jon, taking in the sights of Winterfell. It was surprisingly warm inside the old castle, and she was tempted to shrug out of her fur cloak. Jon started to talk again before Orrina cut him off. “I was raised by the women on Bear Island, who wield axes and slay men." 

They turned a corner, pausing for a moment while Jon pivoted to face her. There was something in his face that said he understood her words but before he could voice his thoughts, they were interrupted again. 

“Where is Arya?” Orrina turned to face two auburn haired ladies, who she assumed was Lady Stark and the other daughter Lord Stark at mentioned. She was surprised by the contempt in the older woman’s eyes and looked between her and Jon until he found his voice to speak. 

“My apologies, Lady Stark,” she noticed how Jon did not meet her eyes. “The Septa came for her.” He left out how he took over her duty of showing Orrina to her room, she had a feeling that Catelyn Stark would think something inappropriate of it. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Stark.” Orrina quickly interjected. “Your Septa came looking for your daughter, and I asked Jon to see me inside so she didn’t disobey her.” Not entirely true, but enough of the truth so it didn’t sound false. “I apologize for my sorry state, I was hoping to get cleaned up before meeting you and your lovely daughter. Jon was only being polite.” 

She was out of practice, talking nicely to highborn ladies. On Bear Island, there was no need for such formality. She was close to all of her cousins, loving them fiercely and saw her Aunt Maege as her mother. They were bawdy, strong women, and they did not need the niceties that other Houses seemed to be so easily slighted by. Bear Island was a place where you could be truly candid.

On the Wall, Orrina kept to herself mostly, but highborn status didn’t matter much there. Even still, there were no other women to curtsey to, to placate and try to play nice. She hoped she had done enough so the bastard boy wouldn’t get in trouble. She remembered the sadness in his eyes, and looked at him now, the way he stared at the floor, jaw clenched and Orrina didn’t want him to be reprimanded for her sake. 

“Very well. Allow myself and my daughter Sansa to take you the rest of the way.” Catelyn regarded her husband’s bastard with distrustful eyes and waved over the Mormont girl, sending one of her maidens ahead to start getting a bath ready. 

“Thank you, Jon.” Orrina was not fearful of Lady Stark, she would not be disrespectful, and she would try to mind her tongue, but she would not shun Jon Snow for her sake. Bastards may have been hated and looked down on, south of the Wall, but even bastards were accepted at the Wall. She touched his arm lightly, barely brushing her fingers over the sleeve of his shirt and offered him what most would consider a shy smile before following Catelyn Stark and her auburn haired daughter down the hallway. 

It was quiet for a few paces, Lady Stark clearly didn’t know what to make of her, not of her breeches, mail or leather jerkin, nor her messy hair and dirty face. Most of all, she eyed the weapons she wore warily but said nothing. 

“You’ll have to excuse my appearance, it’s a rough and long ride from the Wall to Winterfell. Even women must take up arms against the wildlings.” Orrina didn’t like to apologize for her weapons, she took care of them and prided herself in her fighting skills, but she knew not everywhere was Bear Island. “I don’t have many opportunities to dress nicely, I hope my few dresses will be up to standard.”

“I’m sure they are fine,” Catelyn said kindly enough. “My daughter Sansa is quite skilled at sewing, perhaps she can mend some of your clothing.” Warmth touched her voice when she spoke of her daughter, who Orrina noticed blushed at her mother’s compliments. 

“If you stay long enough, I could even make you a new dress.” Sansa’s voice had a musical, sweet quality to it and despite the coolness that hung in the air at first, Orrina found herself smiling at the younger girl. 

“I would like that, thank you.” Although she didn’t wear dresses, Orrina found no reason to dissuade Sansa Stark, or even tell her that her stay at Winterfell would likely be long enough to make her a new dress. 

They made small talk of the weather, of their journey to Winterfell until Catelyn opened the door to the room Orrina would be staying in. 

It was a fine room, bigger than the her room at Bear Island, and bigger still than her room in the King’s tower. There was a big steel tub, filled with steaming water and a girl settling her things at the foot of a feather bed. 

The Stark women and their handmaiden left Orrina to her bath, bidding her farewell until it was time to supp. She was grateful for the moment of peace, and more importantly for the bath. She stripped, and sunk her tired and dirty body into the warm water, a deep sigh escaping her lips. 

Winterfell was not what Orrina Mormont had been expecting, Ned Stark’s children surprised her. The handsome eldest, the solemn bastard, the rambunctious girl, and her older, sweet counterpart. She was curious to what the other Starks would hold, Bran who didn’t quite meet her eye, or the youngest she had yet to meet. Most curious of all, was Jon Snow. Handsome Jon Snow, who reminded Orrina of his uncle in a way, with his long face and Stark eyes. He was clearly acknowledged by his father, loved by his siblings (at least Arya) but still an outsider, a baseborn son who the Lady mother did not care for. 

Orrina did not think they would be in Winterfell long, long enough to rest their bones, enough for her grandfather to act like he wasn’t begging for more men and then they would be gone, back to the Brother’s in Black. 

In the meantime though, Orrina would do her best to fit into life at Winterfell, and although she would not admit it, perhaps talk to Jon Snow again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it, the first chapter. I'm still reading through ASoIaF so this will be a mash up of the books and the show. If it's not clear, this starts off about a year before Robert comes to Winterfell and I do intend for it to be a quite a slow burn. Hopefully you find this interesting enough to keep reading and let me know what you think. 
> 
> And if you are person like me who likes visuals, I am imagining Orrina as Adelaide Kane. Thanks!


	2. A Call to Motion

Orrina wished she could have stayed in the bathtub for longer, instead of being stuffed into a dress and awkwardly curtseying at anyone who looked her way. There weren’t many opportunities for baths at the Wall, it was too cold and it was easier just to wash your various bits with a rag. If only the tub were bigger where she could completely submerge herself and swim around like she used to back on Bear Island. Only there the water was much colder. Even still, the ability to stretch out her legs fully and to feel weightless under the water was something she missed. 

Instead Orrina Mormont had to have a thirteen year old girl alter her dresses for her, she found them too tight and too short once she finally emerged from her cold bath water. Sansa was more than happy to do so, and to be fair, the dresses had looked better than they ever have, even when they were new. Sansa really did a lovely job, and even though Orrina felt more like herself in breeches, even she couldn’t deny how nicely they fit now. 

It was a long green dress, with bell end sleeves, and a black bodice, colored aptly for House Mormont. Sansa had even added a small bear on the neckline, shyly stating she could have made it more intricate with more time. It was a sweet gesture. Still, it had been quite some time since Orrina had to wear a dress and she felt as awkward as she must have looked. 

Dinner was a small affair, since the Starks weren’t expecting the Night’s Watch Brothers until the following day, but Jeor had still insisted she try to look her best. This wasn’t Bear Island, he told her when he came to find her after her bath. This wasn’t the Wall, she was expected to hold her tongue and use whatever manners Maester Aemon had managed to impart in her. 

It wasn’t hard here, the Starks were kind and welcoming to her and her grandfather. Lord and Lady Stark sat at the head of the table, their young son sitting in the Lady’s lap. She had learned his name was Rickon. Aside from Jon and Arya, all the Starks looked like their Tully mother and Orrina was trying to keep all their names straight. Her grandfather had the pleasure of sitting at Ned’s left side and seemed to be engrossed in a conversation while his Lady wife tried to feed bits of food to a very fussy Rickon. 

Robb was next to his mother and was paying close attention to their conversation. Theon sat next to him, looking decidedly more bored but was trying to interject when he could. Arya all but shoved Sansa out of her chair to get a seat next to her, which Orrina thought was kind of sweet, sisterly violence aside. Sansa sat across from her and complimented her in her dress, which she made a point to compliment her back on her sewing abilities, which was probably a bit over the top but Sansa looked pleased nonetheless. 

Bran and Arya argued over archery, over food and pretty much anything that came out of each other’s mouths, but it was never mean spirited and mostly in jest. It reminded her of her cousins, Jorelle and Lyra. The girls were close in age, as sisters but bickered over every single thing. 

It seemed the only person who was quiet and solemn at this dinner was yet again, Jon Snow. He sat at the very end of the table and pointedly did not look toward Lady Stark. Orrina didn’t know if her seat next to Jon was intentional or not, but she didn’t mind, to be seated next to a bastard was not offensive to her. She sat next to all sorts of bastards during supp at the Wall all the time. 

“Are they usually such a rowdy bunch?” Orrina asked Jon, artfully dodging Arya’s elbow as she loudly told some story to Bran. 

“Mostly,” Jon replied with a wry sort of smile. “Usually Lady Stark has yelled at Arya by now though.” His voice darkened slightly at the mention of his father’s wife who looked too frustrated with her youngest refusal of food than reprimanding Arya and Bran. 

Orrina was tempted for a moment to probe, it was clear Ned’s wife held no love for his bastard and the bastard had none for her but aside from their frosty relationship which was colder than the Wall itself, Jon seemed to have a good relationship with the rest of his family. Arya, Bran, nor Robb seemed to look down on Jon. Sansa was a little harder to read since it seemed like she was affronted by all of the rowdy behavior. 

Still, it wouldn’t be appropriate and although she didn’t often heed the Old Bear’s advice, she wasn’t about to cause a scene in front of the entire Stark family. 

“It reminds me of dinner at the Wall.” Orrina said honestly, taking a small drink of her very weakened ale. Jon looked at her in surprise for a moment, like he was just connecting that Orrina had traveled here from the Wall with the Lord Commander. 

“You live at the Wall?” 

She had a hard time not laughing in his face, but she had a feeling that would offend Jon Snow, and despite his seemingly surly attitude, Orrina found herself drawn to him. “Yes, Jon Snow. I have for the last four years.” She assumed he thought her grandfather had plucked her from Bear Island along the way. 

“I thought women weren’t allowed at the Wall?” Jon rearranged his face, to hide the mask of confusion he wore and tried to keep it neutral. 

“I’m not a member of the Night’s Watch,” she shook her head. “I just live there, alongside my grandfather.” It was an unusual arrangement, she would give him that. Not traditional by any means, but it was more of a solution and wasn’t meant to be a permanent relocation. 

Originally, her Aunt Maege and grandfather hoped that perhaps Orrina would get scared off by the Wall, force her to straighten out. But she had taken to the Black Brothers like a fish to water and she still hadn’t left. She had been so angry after her father took off, leaving his young daughter behind, motherless, and now fatherless. Bear Island was isolated so not much of Westeros had realized that Eyva Glover had died in childbirth, not from another miscarriage. 

She had felt discarded by her father, felt like he cared more about his young, new, expensive wife than his daughter. Orrina had lashed out, renounced her claim to Bear Island, wishing for her aunt to be it’s Lady. She had spent many months, isolating, angry and getting into fights with anyone who looked at her long enough. 

While her aunt loved her, Maege Mormont could only deal with so much. She had her own daughters to contend with, and now she had to drag Bear Island from the financial ruin that her nephew put them in. She sent Longclaw back to Jeor, with word that his granddaughter needed something more, she could teach her to take her anger out by throwing axes and fighting, but Orrina clearly needed a father figure to quell the hate she felt for her actual father. 

“And they don’t care that you’re there? Even though your a girl?” Jon raised an eyebrow, he was starting to feel like maybe the Mormont girl was pulling his leg. People seemed to think that was a funny thing to do, mess with him. 

“Not all of them,” she shrugged as she finished the last few bites of her meal. “Ser Allister Thorne hates me, so does Thoren Smallword. Bowen and Othell don’t care much for me either, nor does Chett.” There was a casual air to her tone as if she often contemplated all of those who didn’t like her. “But my grandfather is the Lord Commander so they deal with it,” she shrugged again. 

“What’s it like at the Wall?” Jon’s meal sat untouched now, fascinated by a _girl_ who lived amongst the Night’s Watch. He had always loved hearing his Uncle Benjen’s stories from ranging to everyday life there. 

“For me? Pretty boring.” Orrina hated to disappoint but it was true. “I have to keep to myself, really.” The Old Bear worried for her safety, there were more rapers and thieves at the Wall than honorable men. “Sometimes I get to practice with the new recruits. I help out old Maester Aemon. I do chores in the kitchens with Hobb.” She had to pull her weight, her grandfather said when she came to the Wall. Otherwise, no man would respect her. Not that many did, but it helped that she didn’t sit up in her quarters all day, waiting for them to serve her. 

Orrina saw that Jon’s face had fallen a bit, and she realized he was used to stories of his Uncle’s great ranging. “Benjen has better stories, I’m sure. He actually gets to go beyond the Wall,” she smiled in his direction, a weird warm feeling settling in her chest when he smiled back, even if it was a small one. 

“So you really know how to use a sword then?” Jon seemed impressed by this, he must be used to girls like Sansa. Even dirty little Arya was still obviously expected to mind her Septa and do her lady lessons. 

“Yes, I do.” Orrina grinned, a true one. She may have not have felt completely out of place in a nice dress, but Orrina felt like herself with steel in her hand. Her battle axe was her preferred weapon of choice, her Aunt Maege personally had taught her how to use it. But she still enjoyed her sword. “Perhaps we can spar before we leave.” Her eyes flashed at him above the rim of her mug. 

“Spar with you?” Jon choked out, he couldn’t fight a girl. It wasn’t right. “But you’re a girl.” 

“So?” Orrina was used to this response, she got it frequently enough. “No one is better fighter than my Aunt Maege. Qhorin Halfhand has even shown me a few moves.” Halfhand was the best swordsman in the Night’s Watch and he had finally relented during his last visit to Castle Black. 

“My father wouldn’t like it.” Nor would the Lady Stark, Orrina read between the lines. 

“So, we needn’t spare in front of him then.” 

Before Jon could answer her, Lord Stark stood and dismissed them all from the meal, he wished to speak to the Lord Commander alone. 

“Come on, Lady Orrina. I can show you the glass greenhouse!” Arya jumped up and grabbed at the older girl’s hand. 

“I want to come with!” Bran exclaimed loudly, scrambling out of his seat to follow his sister. 

As she was being dragged out of the room, Orrina turned back to look at Jon Snow, a smile still on her lips before she disappeared out of the door. Jon Snow would remember that smile for the rest of the evening. 

**JEOR**

After the children cleared from the table, and Lord Stark bid his lady and his youngest a good night, Eddard showed him back to his solar. He poured them each a glass of red Dornish wine. It wasn’t his usual spiced wine, but it was still a fine drink all the same. 

Ned sat across from him, saying nothing, but the question was on his long face all the same. It wasn’t often the Lord Commander left his post. Since he left Bear Island for the Watch, Jeor could count on both his hands how many times he had come South, especially since he became the 997th Lord Commander. His raven did all his talking for him, sending letters back and forth and he stayed nice and frozen at his post. 

Ever since his granddaughter had come to him, sullen and angry, Jeor had been even more reluctant to travel. That girl had a strong will, and he knew that child certainly had Mormont blood and could defend herself easily. If nothing else, his stubborn sister did teach her well. Orrina had come to the Wall at twelve, more of a fighter than half of his recruits. She swung a sword with ease, and could fling her axe clear across the courtyard of Castle Black. 

Still, there were many men he didn’t trust, didn’t trust not to try and take advantage of a young woman, who unfortunately grew more beautiful every year. Orrina was lucky, she looked so much like her mother, Eyva Glover. And for the celibate men of the Watch, she would oh so tempting. Even worse, he would hate to have to clean up one of his men after one of the Bear cubs of House Mormont got her claws into him. 

“I need more men, Ned.” He started gruffly. There was no point in beating around the bush, not with Ned Stark. Jeor admired that about him, he didn’t have to try and flatter the Warden of the North, not like the rest of the Great Houses in the North. The Night Watch had suffered many losses over the years, and it seemed like he got less and less good men every passing day. 

“Good men,” Jeor continued. “The only men that are sent to me are no Benjen Stark.” He meant it as a compliment. Benjen was invaluable as First Ranger, but Benjen was also a good man. A man he could trust, and there were fewer and fewer of those being sent to him. 

Ned said nothing for a moment, but took a small pull of his drink. “I’ll see what I can do, but you know I cannot force any man to take the Black, Lord Mormont.” 

“I know,” he grunted. “If only, maybe then we wouldn’t be a band rapists and fools.” Jeor mirrored Lord Stark’s movements and took a drink from his mug. “The Night’s Watch used to be seen as something honorable, the Shield that protects the Realm. We used to be thousands strong, now I’m lucky if I have a thousand men between here and East Watch.” 

“I will write to my bannerman, see if they have men to spare. The Starks have always been friends to the Night Watch.” He didn’t need to remind the Old Bear, their relationship spanned far beyond the two of them sitting here. 

“I hope they won’t disappoint their leige Lord.” Jeor raised his half drunk glass, tipping it in Eddard’s direction. 

“Aye, nor the Lord Commander.” Ned was quiet for a beat while they both drank to each other’s respective titles. “I can’t help but feel like you’ve come for something else, Lord Mormont.”

Jeor was glad that Ned didn’t feel the need to beat around the bush with him either. There was no point in bullshitting each other. They had a mutual understanding, built on respect for each other and their standings. 

“You would be right.” The Old Bear needed men that was for sure, and he needed whatever numbers Eddard Stark could spare him, but it was not his only motivation for coming south of the Wall. He let the silence linger another moment while he drained his glass, and poured himself another, Ned waited in silence for him to continue. 

“My grandaughter, Orrina,” Jeor started, not sure exactly how he wanted to phrase this. “She is a good girl, strong, beautiful and by all the Old Gods and New, is she stubborn.” He chuckled to himself. “She reminds me of my sister.” Even if Maege would drive him crazy, he respected and loved her all the time. “But she grows too bold, and too old withering away at the Wall. She has no business being there any longer.” 

Ned said nothing, sipping his wine and waiting for the Lord Commander to continue. There was little point in interrupting the old man. 

“I once wished for her to rule Bear Island, to bring back the honor my son robbed us of. But she refuses. She wants to leave it to my sister, and her daughters.” Jeor had his own thoughts on that, but it had nothing to do with Ned. “She has no marriage prospects while she remains at the Wall. I have written to a few Houses, but have not found a match yet.”

The Lord of Winterfell could read between the lines well enough to realize that there weren’t many men willing to marry their son off to Lord Mormont’s granddaughter. Her father was a traitor, Jorah had sold slaves and sent his House to financial ruin. Orrina had been raised by women who had very different values than the rest of the Houses in the North. 

Ned couldn’t think of one of his bannermen who would want to marry their son to a girl who wouldn’t rule Bear Island, to a poor house, to a girl who rode into Winterfell bold as could be, a host of weapons at her disposal. A girl who both men noticed didn’t care about Ned’s bastard’s status and talked openly and friendly with him. 

“I was hoping she could stay here, in Winterfell. Be around some proper Lady’s for once. My sister loved her fiercely, but did her no favors. Your wife could be a good influence on her,” Jeor hoped at least. “Perhaps find a match, if she won’t lead House Mormont, I at least wish for her to marry for love.”

There wasn’t much Jeor Mormont wanted in life, but he at least wanted Orrina to be taken care of. To find herself and blossom into the woman he knew she could be. She was his granddaughter so he would love her no matter what weapons she was determined to take up. But not every man would. 

“We would be honored to host Lady Orrina here.” Eddard finally spoke, and Jeor knew there was no lies in words. He would not say them if he didn’t mean them and the Old Bear breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you, Ned.” Jeor hoped he wasn’t being overly familiar with the younger man but it meant a lot he was willing to take in his granddaughter. She was his closest family, and he would not have her be ruined like her son was. He would raise her better. “She’s already spent too much time at the Wall, I hope that it’s not too late for her.”

“Lady Orrina will do fine, I’m sure she will flourish with help from my Lady wife.” Ned was sure of that. “After some time, I will find her match with one of my bannerman's sons. A good match,” he assured him. 

“If it’s not too bold, Lord Stark,” Jeor started, not actually much concerned if it was too bold, he had given up not wanting to offend Lords and Lady’s many years ago. “Perhaps if you find her acceptable, we could arrange a match between my Orrina and your boy. The bastard.” 

Jeor couldn’t remember the boy’s name but he noticed his granddaughter talking to him during supp. He knew with his son’s reputation, with the way she was raised on Bear Island, Orrina would not be an acceptable choice for his eldest, the heir Robb. She was too old for any of his other boys, but being the daughter of a traitor, no one would look down on her for marrying the bastard of a high Lord. 

If his sister and her daughter’s could get away with saying their children were fathered by damned bears, Orrina could marry a higborn bastard with no shame. 

Ned was quiet long enough for Jeor to start to think perhaps he really did offend the man, until he set his mug down and nodded. “Jon has seemed to take a liking to her.” It was easy enough to see, especially to Ned who was just as reserved as him. “I will have to speak to my wife first,” Ned worried that Catelyn may be offended if Jon were to marry before Robb, as she usually was cross whenever it came to Jon. “But I think it would be a good match.”

“Thank you Ned.” Jeor’s thanks were genuine, at least the weight of worrying for Orrina was lifted from his shoulders slightly. The men continued to drink in silence, draining their wine before the Old Bear stood. 

He bid the Quiet Wolf a good night and retired to his room for the evening. Tomorrow he would have to bear the burden of telling Orrina she would not be traveling back with him, and the hell that came with that, but at least for tonight, he could rest just a little easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it! Second chapter! I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I hope you enjoy reading it. I was planning on doing more interactions with Orrina and the rest of the Starklings, but I really want to develop her and Jon's friendship. As you can see, there will be PLENTY of time for her to interact with the rest of the Stark family. 
> 
> As for the potential marriage match between Jon and Orrina, I'll let you see where that takes them. It was something I had planned for a later chapter, but I couldn't wait to write Jeor and Ned together. 
> 
> And for a note on transparency, I will say I edited a bit out of the first chapter, particularly the part where Orrina tells Jon she's been living at the Wall. I thought Jon's amazement of the Wall would be, pun intended, a good ice breaker for them. 
> 
> Last note, I started a tumblr for this story, pictures of how I imagine Orrina, and the rest of the Mormonts/Bear Island, music inspirations, and general thirstiness for Kit Harrington. helenaplumitccn.tumblr.com 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	3. Dreadful Need in the Devotee

**JON**

It had been days since the Lord Commander and his granddaughter arrived in Winterfell and Jon hadn’t seen Orrina Mormont since their welcoming feast on the second night. He didn’t get to sit next to her that time, she was squeezed in next to Sansa and although she tried to look interested by what Sansa was saying, but he could tell she wasn’t overly involved in the conversation. 

Since then, Jon had only caught glances of her, usually with Sansa and Lady Catelyn so he had been sure to keep his distance. He had wanted to approach her and talk to her again. Jon was intrigued by her, the way she rode in proud and straight back on her horse, weapons at her side. But since arriving in Winterfell, Jon hadn’t seen Orrina with her axe, nor her sword. But he had heard Sansa talk excitedly about making her a new dress. 

It was an annoyance how much he thought of her, wondering when next he would be afforded a glance at her. Jon kept thinking about their conversation, how eager she seemed when she suggested sparing, he had never fought with a girl before. Well, just Arya but she hardly counted when it was just stick fighting. He had a feeling that Orrina Mormont really knew how to wield a sword. 

Instead Jon was left to practice with Robb, while Theon watched on. He could have done without Greyjoy but for whatever reason, Robb liked him and they were each other’s shadows. It was after dinner, so he had hoped Theon would go harass some girl and he would be alone with Robb. He would have liked to see what he thought of the Mormont girl, they had talked over dinner a few times, Jon noticed feeling quite jealous at the time. He always had to sit at the end of the table, away from his father’s wife, afraid any closeness would offend her. 

But Jon didn’t dare ask about Orrina with Theon around. He would only make some stupid jape and a crude comment, Robb would laugh and they would tease him. So he settled for just practicing and hoping he could speak with his brother after Greyjoy got bored of them. They were evenly matched, Jon knew so their practicing could be quite boring and drawn out. Theon made sure to mention that anytime there wasn’t enough theatrics for him. 

But his thoughts were so consumed by the Lord Commander’s granddaughter and what she was doing and when he might get to talk to her again, and maybe even her big eyes that freely showed every emotion she was feeling that Robb was able to best him and give him a solid whack on the back of his knees. It sent him to the ground with a surprised grunt and scowl and a barking laugh from Theon.  
“You are distracted,” Robb stated holding a hand to help his brother up. “It was almost too easy,” he grinned as Jon dusted off the front of his breeches. 

“Hm, and what were you thinking of, Snow?” Theon butt in, a stupid smirk on his face. Jon said nothing, but glared at the older boy. “What do you think Robb?”

“I would wager a guess it has to do with our new guest.” Robb’s tone was much more playful than Theon’s, it made Jon wish that they were alone. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“Shut up,” he scoffed and stalked off to put away his practice sword. He wouldn’t talk about this or her in front of Theon Greyjoy. Not now, not ever. 

“Can’t say I blame him, Stark.” Theon’s voice carried over as he started to follow Robb and Jon. “I couldn’t tell at first, wearing mail and all that,” he continued with a sneer. “But nice tits.” He grinned again, elbowing Robb in the side. Robb didn’t comment either way, but rolled his eyes at the older boy he had grown to think of like a brother. 

“Shame she’s a traitor’s daughter. Else you might find yourself having to marry the She-Bear.” 

Jon could feel a flush rising to his face, but continued to say nothing, just glowering at Greyjoy. He wanted to comment, but once Theon got started discouraging him only made it worse. He didn’t like the way he was talking about Orrina, but it wasn’t his crudeness that was bothering him the most. It was the way he talked so easily about her and Robb marrying. Or maybe it was the way that he so calmly dismissed her. 

It reminded him of the way that he was constantly dismissed because he was a bastard. He didn’t choose it, he didn’t choose for his father to break his marriage vows, just Orrina didn’t choose for her father to sell to slavers. Why did they always have to pay for the sins of their fathers? 

Jon said nothing more and stored his practice sword and left them to it. Let Theon Greyjoy reduce her to her body, he heard the contempt in his voice whenever he discussed Bear Island and the women there. He was like minded to many men of the North that women shouldn’t take up arms. But he could move past that for the sake of how she looked. 

He didn’t know Orrina very well, but Jon had a feeling that Greyjoy wasn’t her type and she could hold her own against him. 

The sun started to set, and instead of turning into the warm walls of Winterfell, Jon made his way to the Godswood. He wanted a quiet place to think, a place where he wasn’t just seen as Ned’s bastard. Under the Weirwood tree, he could be alone with no judging eyes on him. He took his time walking there, maneuvering between trees, and stepping over roots. 

As he neared the heart tree and it’s dark pool, Jon heard a voice rising above the sound of the woods. The voice rose high, sweet as a lute, and Jon stilled, feet away from the heart tree, masked behind an ironwood tree. He peeked around and caught sight of the person attached to the voice, somehow not surprised when he saw Orrina sitting under the weirwood, eyes closed and singing freely. 

There was no harp, no flutes to accompany her but Jon found she didn’t need it. Her voice rang through the trees, rising and swelling with her words. It was a love song she sang, clear and golden. It rooted Jon to the spot and for a moment he felt like they were the only two things in the godwood. 

He watched her sway, eyes closed, face lifted up towards the branches and Jon felt the words were meant for him. Somehow this song was for him and him alone. It was hypnotic and powerful, Jon had never found himself captivated by music like he was in this moment. 

_With the roar of the fire my heart goes to its feet_  
_Like the ashes of ash I saw eyes in the heat_  
_Sitting soft in this purest snow_  
_Fell in love with the fire long ago_  
_Each love I could lose_  
_I was never the same_  
_Watch it's still living roots be consumed by the flames_  
_I was fixed on your hand of gold_  
_Laying waste to my loving long ago_  


It wasn’t a song that Jon knew but he wanted to know the words, to sing them along with her. He wanted to cross over the black water of the godwood’s pond and sit next to her, and listen to her sing until the sun set and rose again. He wanted to reach out, to make his presence known and for her know how her voice captured him.

Instead Jon did none of that, and stood in the shadows watching her like some sort of simple minded fool with his mouth hanging open. As much as Jon wanted to walk over to her, he was still a bastard and it would be inappropriate to approach her alone, near at night time like this. So he leaned into the tree and closed his eyes, letting her singing voice wash over him. 

“Jon?” A voice called out, startling him where he nearly let out a yelp. Orrina’s voice still rung out across the godswood so in that moment, Jon was thankful it wasn’t her and he wasn’t caught spying on her.  
However, worse still, it was Arya’s long face that stared back at him from under the fading sunlight. Arya, his favorite sister who he loved more than anyone, but his sister who had a big mouth and no ability to hold her tongue. 

“Arya? What are you doing out here so late?” Jon’s voice was barely above a whisper, not wanting the Mormont girl to know they were out here, watching her, listening to her in a private moment. Jon only had to take a few steps to be at Arya’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder and directing her away from the pool. 

“I was looking for you, I saw you come in here,” Arya said, Jon was glad they were moving further away because his sister did not try to keep her voice quiet. “Why were you standing there like that?” 

“I was going to pray, but I didn’t want to interrupt Lady Orrina,” he mumbled, even the excuse sounded weak to his ears. But Arya was young and hopefully wouldn’t question him. 

“It seemed like you were spying.” It was a foolish hope. 

“No.” Jon answered with what he hoped was enough authority to keep Arya Big Mouth shut. 

“Her voice is pretty. Were you listening to sing? I didn’t know she could sing.” He was a fool for thinking that Arya would be satisfied so simply. Once she started, it was hard to get her to stop, so Jon let her ramble off while they stooped under branches and made their way back to the courtyard. 

Jon said nothing, hoping her chattering would die down by the time they got inside. And in truth, he was embarrassed she caught him. It certainly did seem like he was just stalking around in the woods, spying on her in her intimate moment. He felt his cheeks start to redden again and he shook his head at Arya, his curly hair brushing his ears. 

“What?” Jon had tuned her out too much he realized when she stopped in front of him and looked at him with a raised brows. 

“I said,” Arya started, a tone of clear annoyance. “Do you think father will let me practice with a sword? Like Lady Orrina?”

“Maybe,” likely not though, Jon kept that part to himself. Arya was afforded a lot of allowances at Winterfell, more than most little ladies her age, he knew she reminded their father of their long dead aunt, Lyanna. Even still, Jon thought Catelyn Stark would sooner kiss him than see one of her daughters with steel in her hand. “Maybe if you keep practicing with the wooden ones.” He patted his sister on the top of her head, messing up her brown hair. 

Jon spared a look behind him, almost like he expected Orrina Mormont to emerge from the godswood after them. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when she didn’t and instead steered his little sister back inside. 

**ORRINA**

Despite being at Winterfell for five days, Orrina was still an early riser, the Wall didn’t appreciate late sleepers and she was finding it hard to break the habit. However, this morning, she woke up even earlier than usual. The sun was just barely breaking over the horizon when she turned over in her feather bed, awake like she had never gone to bed. She had tossed and turned for a few moments before giving in and slipping out of bed. 

Orrina had been stuffed into dresses (one new one thanks to Sansa Stark and her nimble, fast working fingers and another one that had been one of Lady Catelyn’s) since she arrived and she was itching to wear her breeches. Wearing a dress had been almost nice at first, it had been so long since she had reason to. But she was sick of them now, she wanted to run and not have to worry about her skirts getting dirty. 

No one from the Stark family should be awake at this time, meaning she could parade in her own clothes without offending anyone. In a second, Orrina was out of bed and digging through her very meager pile of clothes. And without thought, she took her sword into her hand, shoved her feet into her boots and raced to the courtyard. 

Although Orrina preferred her battle axe, she missed swinging a sword. It wasn’t very often, but sometimes Ser Allister would let her whip some new recruits. Only when they really on his nerves and he wanted to embarrass them by having a girl best them. Still, even without humiliating the new Brothers of the Watch, Orrina made sure she practiced everyday. Usually by herself, but everyday since she arrived at the Wall, she held steel in her hand. 

She already felt weaker, for her lack of training in the last five days in Winterfell, but she finally felt like herself when she entered the courtyard, sword in hand, the sunlight barely lighting her way. 

For nearly an hour, Orrina swirled and turned, kicking imaginary foes, hacking off their heads, stabbing them in the hearts, deftly slitting throats. Sweat dripped from her forehead into her eyes, and her arms felt heavy from the intensity of her swings but she felt stronger, true to herself. 

Orrina was so focused on her footing, on precise movements that she hadn’t noticed Jon Snow silently make his way into the training yard. He stood at the sidelines, saying nothing until Orrina whirled in his direction, her sword cutting through the air. 

“Oh!” She nearly dropped her sword when she met Jon’s eyes, surprised that he was there, that she hadn’t noticed him. “How long have you been here?” Her breathing was heavy as she wiped her brow. 

“Not long.” She was noticing a theme with Jon, in the few rare moments they had in each other’s company. He was quiet, he kept to himself, with the exception of a few people. She saw him crack a smile in his siblings presence, especially Arya’s. He was more solemn when his father was around, and tried to make himself invisible whenever Lady Stark was near. 

“Well,” Orrina paused, still trying to catch her breath. “I did say I wanted to spar with you, right?” She smiled at him, brushing her sweaty hair off of her forehead. “With training swords, of course,” Orrina sheathed her sword and grabbed a practice sword for herself and one for Jon, holding it out for him tentatively. She hoped he wouldn’t dismiss her because she was a girl. 

“I probably shouldn’t,” Jon started, not looking her in the eye, instead trained on her hand that extended towards him. He didn’t say anything else, but reached his own out and took the sword from her hand, the barest of smiles on his lips. 

Orrina had no such qualms about hiding away her grins and smiles, and gave him a broad one as she moved into place. She planted her feet, side turned to him, sword raised. Jon took a similar stance, but didn’t look nearly as excited at his partner. 

Moments passed between them, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Orrina figured Jon’s lack of attack was due to not wanting to hit a girl, while she waited to see what kind of fighter he was. She figured he had to be good, he had a Master-at-arms to practice with, to teach him. He was solidly built (something she had noticed long before she faced him in this moment), but he was still growing so he was likely quick on his feet as well. Orrina knew he would fight honorably, she would expect nothing less than Lord Eddard Stark’s son. 

She grew tired of waiting for the Bastard of Winterfell to attack so Orrina took a step towards him, swinging broadly in his direction, not surprised when he blocked her attack. Even less surprised when he didn’t take her opening to attack her back. So, she would have to provoke him fully. 

Orrina kept this up for a minute, blindly attempting to get a strike in all while Jon did was block her. So she feinted, moving towards his left side and when he went to block, she turned suddenly and hit him hard on his right shoulder. He stumbled back a moment, a look of surprised passing his serious face. 

“I might as well be out here fighting myself.” She turned and went to strike again, aiming low this time. There was force in Jon’s block, this time he actually pushed back against her. Orrina let out a twinkle of laughter before it quickly died when Jon finally got over himself and struck her back.  
She was regretting her vigorous solo practice now, Jon was fresh while her arms shook. Still, Orrina would not give up. She met his sword with hers, grinning wide, teeth flashing at him as they both grappled for the upperhand. While Jon Snow may have had his Master-at-Arms to thank for his skills, she had her Aunt Maege, she had the many Brothers of the Night’s who spent years fighting off wildlings. She stumbled forward, knowing that Jon would back off enough for her to gather herself and Orrina went low again. 

She raised her sword to hit him again, ducking under his swing at her and driving her shoulder into his ribs, nearly knocking him off his feet. Judging by the look on his face, Orrina figured Ned’s honorable son did not care for that move. 

“Wildlings don’t fight like proper Lords.” Orrina grinned again, lip curled back. Sweat rolled down her neck, down her back, into her eyes, but she didn’t stop. She went after Snow again, unrelenting in her swings, but Jon held his own with ease. He was stronger than her, it hardly looked like he was sweating at all. 

Which annoyed Orrina Mormont most of all. 

They continued their dance for a few minutes more, both twirling, mirroring each other’s movements. She was most surprised when Jon landed a hit to her stomach, definitely not as hard as he could swing, she knew but still she was happy he was no longer afraid to hit her. 

Perhaps she was distracted by the light sheen on his neck, or the way his dark curls hung in his stormy grey eyes, but Orrina was not happy when Jon had out maneuvered her and before she knew it, he had his practice sword pressed where her heart hammered under her ribs. 

“I yield,” she dropped her sword to the ground, holding up her aching arms in defeat. She was annoyed that he had bested her, but Orrina was still beaming. It felt _good_ to properly fight with someone, someone who was better than her. Most of the green boys who came to the Wall had barely held a sword in their life. It was easy to knock them on their behinds. Jon Snow may have been shy to fight back at first, but he was a good sparring partner. 

“You were actually pretty good,” Jon started, and then stopped, likely realizing she could take his words as offense, but Orrina only laughed and threw herself onto the ground. 

“You are lucky that I was already tired from practicing.” She japed, knowing that even if she had faced Jon Snow when she first woke up, he would have beaten her then too. “You are a worthy opponent, Jon Snow.” Her smile was kinder and softer this time. 

“As are you, Orrina Mormont.” She still hadn’t earned the full face smile that seemed reserved for his siblings, but the corners of his mouth were definitely upturned and Orrina counted that as a win. 

“Sit, you deserve it after a good fight like that,” she gestured for him to sit next to her, she didn’t care about her breeches getting dirty. They were already sweaty and dusty from their fight. 

Jon didn’t have a moment to really consider sitting next to her, it seemed like he was contemplating the idea, that it wouldn’t be SO bad for the bastard to sit next to her when Robb’s voice cut through the air like their swords had previously. 

“I’ve heard how well the women of House Mormont fight, but I never thought I’d see it in person.” The eldest Stark made his way over to them, his Tully red hair gleaming in the sun. 

“Not well enough to beat Jon,” Orrina responded, leaning back on her hands. Was it rude to speak to the future Lord of Winterfell on the ground? She didn’t know, nor did she really care. She was exhausted from her fight with Jon and didn’t feel like curtseying for the boy. She had enough of that. 

“Jon is a good swordsman.” Robb said simply, clapping his now scowling half brother on the shoulder. Maybe he was just as disappointed that their moment had gotten interrupted as she was. Orrina had plenty of time with the Starks, except Jon, and she had so wanted to talk to him since their first meeting over dinner. A sword fight was a different conversation, and even if she had learned something about Jon from it, she would have liked to have one with words. 

One where he wasn’t so tight lipped, so self aware of his status as a bastard. Orrina had wanted to talk to him as equals, there was something that was tugging her towards him. 

“Aye, he is.” 

“So are you.” 

“You should see my cousin Dacey, she’s the real warrior. No one can fight like her.” Orrina shrugged, she practiced enough to be considered proficient but it was Dacey who was the real prodigy. 

She wasn’t used to flattery, she certainly got none at Bear Island, nor at the Wall. Orrina liked Robb Stark, he was easy to like, but she didn’t need his compliments. Judging by the look on Jon’s face, he seemed to agree. She stifled a chuckle and pushed herself off the ground, brushing off her backside and knees. 

“Keep it up Stark and she’ll start to think she can fight every man here.” A mocking voice interrupted them, and Orrina’s eyes cut to an older boy approaching them. 

She knew there was a Greyjoy ward at Winterfell, she had been introduced to him in passing, but Orrina had gone out of her way to avoid him, she feared she might try to rip his throat out with her teeth if left alone with him long enough.  
The Mormonts had no great love for the Greyjoys, nor their Ironborn. Even when they were brought to heel by King Robert, they still took to their boats, and found themselves sailing towards Bear Island. The Ironborn were the reason the women of Bear Island, the reason House Mormont took up arms, to protect their lands, their men and most importantly themselves. They would not become Salt Wives, to be raped and taken from their families. 

Although the frequency in raids from the Ironborn decreased significantly since Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion, there were still Ironborn who reaved and raped. Men who tried to come for Bear Island and left disfigured. Orrina had been twelve, the first time she witnessed the Kraken at their shores. She had been twelve when she drove her axe into a man and had harboured an intense hatred for Ironborn since. 

Of course Theon Greyjoy would swagger into their conversation, arrogance dripping from every part of him. Orrina couldn’t even begin to play the part of a lady, her lips pulled back into a snarl, eyes narrowing. She wished she hadn’t discarded her sword, she would have liked it in this moment. He may have lived with the Starks, broke fast with them, raised the wolves of Winterfell, but he would always be an ugly sea creature as far as she was concerned. 

“I needn’t fight every man at Winterfell, just one.” Orrina glared hard at Theon, fingers curling into fists the longer she was forced to look upon him. “Although for you, I’d prefer to use real steel.”

Theon looked bewildered for a moment, like he wasn’t aware of the bad blood between the Greyjoys and Bear Island, of his people and hers. Of course he wasn’t, he thought himself a Stark. The tension grew thicker and both Robb and Jon looked at Orrina wearily. It was a change from the easygoing nature they had only witnessed. 

“What is wrong with you?” Theon still didn’t seem to grasp why his presence angered her. What an idiot, she couldn’t help thinking as she uncurled her fingers. She didn’t want them to be stiff in case she needed to wrap them around his throat. 

“You forget that Bear Island has fought off the Ironborn for years,” Orrina sneered, furious that he had the nerve to speak to her so freely, acting completely indifferent and clueless. Finally it seemed to dawn on him, where her anger came from. 

“You are really angry with me, over _that_?” He seemed shocked and let out a mirthless laugh. “I heard things about your House, that it’s full of crazy cunts, but you can’t talk to me that way.” Theon matched her energy quickly, his own fists balled at his sides. “

Almost like Jon could read her mind, he caught her around the waist easily while Orrina launched herself at Theon Greyjoy, prepared to claw his eyes out, to fight him without a weapon. “I should _kill_ you.” She spit at him, over Jon’s shoulder, still trying to escape his hold. 

Infuriatingly, Theon Greyjoy made no move towards her, even though Robb moved in front of him, just in case. He stood there, that stupid smirk on his stupid face. Orrina wished Jon would let her go, she would show the Kraken how crazy House Mormont could be. She would crush him like a bear easily batters it’s prey. 

_Let him call me a cunt one more time, he will see how bears defend themselves,_ Orrina thought savagely to herself, as she struggled against Jon. If he wasn’t such an honorable fool, she might consider elbowing Jon Snow in his face to get him to release him, but as much as she wanted to tear apart Greyjoy like her and Alysane had discussed many times, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

“What is going on here?” Ned’s voice carried so much authority, he needn’t raise it, shout or yell. Jon still didn’t let her go, but Orrina stopped her active struggle against him to face the Lord of Winterfell. 

Her hair was in her face, red from yelling at Theon, still slick from sweat from her fight with Jon, but she met Lord Stark’s eyes. Defiant, and angry, Orrina stood straight, wrenching herself away from Jon. She may be acting inappropriately but she would not back down, nor would she apologize. 

_Here We Stand,_ her family’s words rang in her ears nearly bringing a smile to her face. “I was trying to kill your ward.” She answered honestly, curling and uncurling her fingers trying not to imagine using them to strangle Greyjoy. 

Ned was silent as he regarded her, a heavy sigh on his lips.

“Come with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split up this chapter, because it was getting away from me. I had more planned for the end, but I had to cut it for the next one. I personally love chapters, but I don't want it become too long of a read. So we will pick up where we left off in chapter four. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, although I do find Theon and Robb's voice's hard to nail down. I want to feature Robb during these early chapters in Winterfell, especially considering his lack of POV in the actual books. Robb is one of my favorites but I can't wait get him down. Whereas I openly despise Theon in the early books. He's such a swarmy little shit, and part of my reasoning choosing a Mormont woman to play opposite of Jon was their hatred of the Greyjoys. Hopefully you don't find them too OOC. 
> 
> I'm planning on ten-ish chapters in Winterfell, including when Robert makes his way there. So I hope no one is too disappointed by the lack of Orrina/other Starkling interactions still. I really want to build the foundation of Jon and Orrina's friendship before exploring her relationships with his siblings but I promise it's coming!! 
> 
> If you haven't checked out my tumblr for this story, the link is on my profile! Mostly inspo pics for how I envision these characters but also songs/mood boards that inspire me as well. Also total credit for the song Orrina is singing goes to Hozier, Would That I. His entire album is a huge inspiration to this story. 
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think!! Until next time!


	4. Be As You've Always Been

**ORRINA**

_"Come with me."_

Lord Eddard Stark did not have to yell, he didn't have to even raise his voice slightly. There was something about the Warden of the North's voice, quiet as it was, that demanded your attention. It was the same thing that made Orrina _almost_ feel guilty and ashamed about trying to rip Theon Greyjoy's face off with her hands. But she remembered his cocky grin and the arrogance that radiated off of him and not even Lord Stark could make her feel bad about it.

Still, she bowed her head and followed alongside him, not speaking a word. Orrina had gained a reputation for her sharp tongue and her hair pin temper, but she wasn't an idiot. She wouldn't provoke Lord Stark, she didn't feel regret for her actions, but she would not humiliate herself by throwing a temper tantrum. She would take whatever her punishment might be with a bowed head, but a straight spine and clenched teeth.

Orrina was not surprised by Ned leading her to the Godswood. It was a quiet place, a place for the Old God's to watch over her as she was dealt her hand. Lord Stark led her to weirwood tree and kneeled before the tree, eyes closed and sat silently for a few moments. Orrina said nothing but followed suit, moving to her knees in a quiet prayer. She was not an overly religious person, but she still prayed to the Old Gods and found comfort in the stillness of the woods.

The pair of them sat like this for several beats, before Eddard turned to her with another sigh on his lips. "Tell me why you attacked Theon."

"Because he is a Greyjoy. And I am a Mormont of Bear Island." Orrina sat straighter and looked Lord Stark into his piercing grey eyes. "The Ironborn have never truly stopped their reaving and raping. They have come to our island, hoping to make saltwives of us. Your ward insulted me. It's how things are handled where I'm from."

Bear Island may be included in the Northern territory that Lord Stark resided over, but the culture of Bear Island was considerably different than the rest of the North. Orrina was raised with a weapon in her hand the second she could hold it. She was raised alongside her cousins who were fierce warriors of their own right. Her Aunt Maege taught her to wield a battle axe and how to throw a punch. Northern women were considered to be harder than their Southron counterparts, but still ladies none the less. It was unusual to see a woman carrying weapons and knowing how to use them.

By the time Orrina was eleven, she had killed her first man. An Ironborn. They had come to Bear Island near dusk, a small ship, only a few men but with the intention to take what they could and what they wanted. Orrina watched her Aunt Maege and cousin Dacey arm themselves once they noticed the ship on the horizon. She wasn't supposed to follow them but she was young and hot tempered.

He had snuck up on her, tried to grab her by the hair and dragged her to the edge of the water. She had been aiming for the Ironborn's skull when she swung her axe, barely having time to let out a scream by the time her weapon found purchase in his neck. Orrina still remembered the hot spray of blood, the taste of his life on her lips. She still had nightmares about the Ironborn. She never knew if he was a Greyjoy, or a Pyke. It didn't matter.

Orrina never stopped hating the Ironborn.

"We are not on Bear Island, Lady Orrina." Lord Starks words were firm and clear. Perhaps she was able to act like a wild animal in her home, but not here in Winterfell. She would not be allowed to handle things her way. "If Theon bothers you, he is my ward and I will deal with him." Part of Orrina doubted that, Theon Greyjoy was not treated like a ward here, he was raised alongside Eddard Stark's son and heir, he was afforded more of a position than Ned's bastard son.

Still, Orrina was not in a position to argue. She reminded herself that she would be leaving Winterfell and Theon Greyjoy behind in a few days after her grandfather collected his men. "I will avoid your ward until we leave, my Lord." She bowed her head respectively, missing the look on Lord Stark's face.

Another moment of quiet tension passed between them before Ned simply nodded his good byes and left Orrina in the Godswood by herself, knees pressed into the mud. It wasn't until she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. She knew there were no threats to her inside the walls of Winterfell, but perhaps it was Theon seeking her out to make good on her promise of killing him. Orrina slowly rose to her feet, fingers curling around the dagger she kept on her person. She had left her axe and sword behind in the training circle, but she could make a dagger work.

However it was not Theon Greyjoy who came from behind a tree, it was Jon Snow.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you," Orrina said with a sheepish look as she tucked her dagger away.

"I can go, I just..." Jon stuttered and let the sentence drop in mid air. He couldn't quite meet Orrina in the eye, perhaps he was embarrassed by her earlier actions.

"No, it's fine. Stay." She meant it truly. So far, she was the most intrigued by Jon Snow out of all the Stark children. Orrina had spent most of her time in Winterfell with Lady Stark and Sansa, and while they were very kind to her, she found herself looking for Jon. She had enjoyed their few and brief conversations. But he seemed like he lived on the outside of Winterfell, always in the shadows and always away from Catelyn Stark.

Orrina found herself in a similar way up North. She was not supposed to be at The Wall, and there were plenty of men who didn't like her presence and would rather her not be there. So, she kept to herself. She rarely interacted with any of the Black Brothers, save her grandfather and Maester Aemon. Sometimes Hobbs would make her a special treat for dinner, and Yoren was good for a laugh or two when he was at the Castle, as long as you could stomach the smell. But the people who tolerated her presence were few and far between.

She imagined Jon felt the same with his father's wife and his place in Winterfell, and it made her want to talk to him even more. 

**JON**

Jon could count all the times he interacted with a girl outside of his sisters on one hand. Even though he sought out Orrina, he felt awkward now, standing in front of her in the middle of the woods, alone. After she likely got reprimanded by his father.

"I should have told my father what Greyjoy said to you," he said after an awkward pause. His father wasn't a harsh man, but he knew that his disappointment cut deep and even if Eddard Stark didn't really punish you, you never walked away from those conversations feeling good. Jon had been on the receiving end a few times, and knew the feeling all too well unfortunately. 

“It’s fine,” Orrina waved it off, moving back off her feet, sitting down in the cold leaves under the tree. “Honestly, my grandfather has told me off worse.” She shrugged and offered him a shy smile. Jon could feel a bit of heat creep up his neck. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention. “Come sit down, Jon.”

“I shouldn’t,” Jon shook his head, feeling like an idiot for refusing. It wasn’t very often that people sought out his attention. He was never shunned, or really treated poorly, but being Lord Stark’s bastard carried a weight on him. If people weren’t avoiding him because of something that was beyond his control, it was his anger that kept them away. 

Sometimes, he just couldn’t help it. It was easy to give way to anger and be mad at his situation. He knew other bastard born children had it worse, so he always felt guilty after his outbursts. He just wished for once that he wasn’t always living on the edge of his family, that he felt like a real brother to Robb, or Arya. Even Sansa. But it would never be allowed. 

“Jon Snow, if you think I care about you being a bastard, you are a skilled swordsman, but a dumb man.” Orrina said bluntly, brushing her brown hair out of her even darker eyes. “Half the man power at the Wall are bastards. My cousins are bastards. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Your cousins?” Jon was intrigued now, even more so and finally brought himself to sit on a tree stump near her. He knew if Lady Stark saw them comfortably like this, she would have something to say to his father. And he would find himself on the receiving end of one of his lectures. It wasn’t appropriate for him, a boy born from lust and unfaithfulness to be sitting unsupervised with a lady in the woods. 

Not for the first time in his life, nor the last, Jon thought to hell with Catelyn Stark. 

He didn’t know much about the Mormonts of Bear Island. Just that Jeor Mormont was the Lord Commander and that his son fled the North for selling slaves. He knew that his sister, Maege was the head of their House and he knew their words, but that’s it. 

“Yes my cousins, technically.” Jon watched as Orrina found a leaf, and began shredding it between calloused but delicate fingers. “My aunt said that Mormont women are skin changers, that they turn into bears and go find their lovers in the woods,” she snorted in a way that reminded him of Arya. “It’s a long about way of saying that all my cousins are bastards and that she’s never going to get married.” 

Jon was taken aback by the casual way she spoke about her family. She seemed more amused than horrified as most people normally would be. He had spent most of his life obsessing over what it meant to be the honorable Eddard Stark’s bastard and how that affected how people saw him. He expected most people to look down on him, but to hear Orrina describe her aunt and her cousins, was almost like a breath of fresh air. 

“Don’t look so shocked Jon Snow,” she must have seen the confused look on his face. “Not everyone is so uptight about those things.” Orrina said it so simply, like he shouldn’t be bothered. 

“Well you're not the one being treated differently for it.” Jon had found his own leaf and torn it to bits in his lap without even noticing. 

“No, not here I suppose.” He looked up from his pile of blood red Weirwood tree leaves in time to see her shrug. “But you aren’t the only person in the world to be treated like there’s something wrong with you.” Jon was used to Arya’s attitude, but there weren’t many girls who were willing to talk back like Orrina was. 

“My father sold slaves, and nearly everyone outside of my family I’ve met has used that as an excuse to look down on me.” She looked him dead in the eyes. “Everyone knows about Jorah Mormont, the head of House Mormont, who sold slaves to keep his young wife in pretty clothes, and fled like a craven to Essos instead of face his crime. I bear the burden of his reputation that he couldn’t face.” 

Jon knew that all too well, too many times he had heard comments about how honorable his father was, and how he ended up with a bastard son. It was so easy to forget that he wasn’t the only one dealing with these problems when he rarely interacted outside of his privileged family members. 

“I didn’t think about it like that,” Jon brushed off his pant leg. “I just thought with you being a highborn Lady and all,” he trailed off. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing. 

“Well now you know, you aren’t the only one.” Orrina wasn’t snappy or rude with him, just to the point. He liked that. And he felt something underneath her words, something that made him feel not so alone. Maybe it was her tone, or the way the corners of her mouth upturned slightly and he could see the beginning of dimples in her cheeks.

“I still should have said something to my father,” he continued after a silent pause. “Theon is an ass.” 

Jon liked the sound of her laugh, he decided in that moment when it rang out across the woods. 

“He is an ass,” Orrina agreed, as she stood and brushed off her pile of shredded leaves from her lap. “But I should apologize to you, for shoving you when I was trying to kill him.” 

Jon noticed that Orrina always seemed so confident in her actions, in her words. Their whole conversation, even about a sensitive topic, she never wavered but he could sense a touch of sheepish in her tone when she apologized. 

“I should have let you hit him, he deserves it.” It felt good to talk to someone so freely, especially about Theon and how he disliked him. He didn’t have to worry about if he was offending her. Perhaps he would have a friend outside his siblings. 

“No, because then it would have been the Old Bear yelling at me, and trust me, he is much worse than your father.” Her laugh rang out again as he led them away from the weirwood tree and back to the castle. Jon felt like he could listen to her laugh for the rest of the evening. 

“Well he became the Lord Commander for a reason,” he joked back. 

“Speak of the Crow and he will appear,” Orrina said under her breath as the pair reached the end of the wood and she saw her grandfather in his black garb waiting some feet away. 

“Should I tell him that Theon deserved it?” 

She laughed again, and Jon felt something tighten in his chest at the sound. He would have to think of other ways to make her laugh more. 

“No, I fear we would both be in for a lecture that way,” she smoothed over the front of her breeches, and tucked her hair behind her ears again. Jon could see a defiant glint in her dark eyes, and he found himself liking that about her too. “Don’t worry about me, I know how to handle the Old Bear.” 

Orrina turned back to him, a wide smile on her face, dimples fully formed in her cheeks. “Thank you for coming to find me, Jon Snow. Perhaps we will talk again at dinner.” She offered him a curtsey, which looked awfully silly as she was in pants, but it made him smile. 

“Good luck, Lady Orrina.” He bowed his head, trying to hide the grin on his face before leaving her to her grandfather. Jon would go to the training yard, and collect her sword and axe and have someone return them to her room for her. It was the least he could do since he didn’t defend her in front of his father. 

He couldn’t help but peer over his shoulder, back at her as he left, all too keenly aware that her eyes were still on him too. 

**ORRINA**

She was sure that her grandfather had already heard, probably from Lord Stark himself, that she got into with the Greyjoy boy. He had specifically told her to avoid him, and Orrina had tried. But he baited her. Jeor should know that the granddaughter he helped raise wouldn’t back down to that. 

However, she found herself not caring so much that she might be in for it from the Old Bear himself. Even though it hadn’t been a wholly pleasant topic of conversation, Orrina still enjoyed her talk with Jon. She had been waiting to talk to him again. He was a bit sullen and one track minded when it came to his standing, but she liked his company. 

She liked seeing the beginning of a smile start to creep across his long face, the spark that lit up his grey storming eyes. She was glad he thought Theon Greyjoy was just as awful as she did. Most of all, Orrina liked that he was an outcast too. Never treated poorly, but always on the outside looking in.

Not many people understood her lot in life, but she thought Jon Snow had a better idea than most. 

Orrina was so caught up in her thoughts of Jon Snow, that she didn’t realize her grandfather had closed the gap between them and was already well into a tangent. 

“Did you hear me, girl?” He barked out, guff as usual. His weathered face was looking down at her, eyebrows knitted in curiosity, not anger, surprisingly. 

“I shouldn’t have threatened the Greyjoy boy, I know.” Orrina assumed that’s what her grandfather was going on about. 

“You weren’t listening to me.” Jeor shook his head. “I told you, that I will be leaving back for the Wall in two days.”

“Oh,” she found herself slightly disappointed. She liked the Starks and Winterfell was very different from the Wall, she wouldn’t have minded more time here before journeying back. “I still have all my things, it should be easy to repack everything.”

She should have been concerned when she heard him heft a heavy sigh, and put a hand on her shoulder. “You aren’t coming back with me, Orrina. You are staying here. With the Starks.”

Dumbfounded, she stared up at her grandfather's face, clenching her jaw as she processed what he meant. "For how long? Why?" Her words came out in a jumbled rush. All Orrina had known was Bear Island and the Wall. Although she was kept away from most of the Night's Watch men, she had to come know the Wall as her home. Being there had filled the hole left by her father when he left for Essos. And even though part of her knew that she couldn't stay there forever, she didn't expect to be leaving now.

Leaving the Wall to stay in Winterfell.

Studying the look on her grandfather's face, Orrina knew that there was no timeline for her to stay in Winterfell, that she would not ever come back North. Jeor expected her to stay here, try to find a husband who would have her and that was it. She held no sentimental feelings for most of the Black Brothers, but she felt her heart crack at the thought of not seeing her grandfather again. Not seeing Maester Aemon's bald head again, never having any of Three Finger Hobb's special meals he would make her, or even the extra hard pieces of bread he would sneak her.

"I don't want too." Orrina bit out, turning away from her grandfather and instead brushing through the horse's mane with her fingers.

"It's not your decision to make Orrina," Jeor said, his voice low with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her grandfather was used to being the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, a hard man, facing the unrelenting Northern weather and brutal Wildlings. It wasn't often that Orrina or anyone else saw his softer side. "Women don't belong with the Watch. You are wasting away there."

Orrina said nothing, just leaned into her grandfather's touch. It mattered not whether she liked Winterfell and enjoyed the company of the Starks, she would miss her grandfather more than she could ever come to love Winterfell.

"Ned Stark is considering his bastard boy for you. It would be a good match." Jeor filled the silence between them after a minute. He didn't miss the way his granddaughter's eyes snapped to him at the mention of Jon Snow. Perhaps she wouldn't be so upset after all. "I want you to be happy, little cub." He hadn't called her that since she was a child and Orrina tried desperately to blink back the tears forming in her eyes.

"I want to come with you," Orrina said after another moment before throwing her arms around him. He must have known that she wouldn't stay behind without a fight. Her grandfather always made a point to tell her that she was just as stubborn as her mother. Evya Glover was weak in health, but she was not a weak woman, and her daughter took after her fiercely. At least that's what everyone told her anyways. "The Starks will send me back after they realize I'm half wildling anyways," she mumbled into his heavy fur coat.

It was the running joke amongst the Lord Commanders brothers. Mostly used as a jest, sometimes in secret heated whispers when people wanted to protest against Jeor. Ever since Orrina came to the Wall as a pre-teen, full of anger and pride, the men joked that Jeor must have broken his vows with a wildling woman and she was secretly his child come to raise hell. She had calmed more as she had gotten older, but Orrina was still known for her temper and her sharp tongue. 

"I'm sure Lady Stark will find some way to tame you," Jeor jested, but in truth hoped that Ned's wife would be able to help Orrina in a way that neither him nor his sister or able too. "Especially if you are to marry, can't have you acting like a savage if you are going to be a lady."

Orinna snorted but said nothing. She wasn't even going to entertain the thought of a marriage right now. Not to Jon Snow, not another Great Lord's bastard son, not even to any no name small folk.

Selfishly, she felt like she was being abandoned by yet another father figure. First it was Jorah, and now her grandfather. Ultimately, she knew that wasn't true, that her being at the Wall caused stress to him and discourse amongst his men. He wanted to do right by her, and by his brothers. Still, Orrina couldn't quite squash down the panic of the idea of being left behind again.

"The Starks will look after you well." Her grandfather said in his low, gravely voice, a comforting hand against the top of her head. He made no promises to come visit her, because they both know he couldn't. His duty was to the Watch, some would even consider him as a traitor for taking in his family at his post. "Come on now. No sense in crying after an old man. Go get cleaned up, I'm not leaving for the Wall for a few more days."

Orrina didn't immediately release her hold of her grandfather, took a moment to wipe her face against his black coat and step away from him, red eyed but looking determined all the same. "You wouldn't want that Greyjoy boy to see you've been crying now, would you?" Jeor teased and was rewarded by a mumbled grunt and wave of dismissal.

She was still upset, but she would suck it up for now. She didn't want to stay behind, she wasn't interested in a marriage, but Orrina knew from experience crying about it now wouldn't help her. Instead she would take a bath, stuff herself into yet another dress and contemplate ways to get her grandfather to change his mind.

She didn't hate Winterfell, in fact, she quite liked it there. She didn't miss the bitter, never ending coldness of the Wall, she didn't miss Allister Thorne glaring at her, she didn't miss the whispers from the other Brothers, and especially not the leering. Orinna liked Lord Stark and his Lady wife. She liked all the Stark children, and truthfully wasn't horrified at the idea of being betrothed to Jon Snow.

But she didn't want to face the reality of potentially never seeing her grandfather again. She already faced and accepted the truth she would never see her father again, she didn't want to lose him either.

For now though, she would stop her sniffling and tears, and she would break her fast with the Starks like nothing had changed. She had two days to change her grandfather's or Lord Stark's mind, but Orrina was confident if anyone could do it, she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHH don't kill me. Life came at me fast and hard for the last few months. I quit my emergency vet med job and have gone back to general practice and am working hard for a promotion. But I've been missing this story and after watching the Witcher, my muse feels renewed. I'm hoping to come back full time with writing and get on a semi-regular uploading schedule. I would love a chapter every week, but I cannot promise yet. Hope you understand and thanks for sticking with me!


	5. There is a Roadway, Muddy and Foxgloved

**SANSA**

There wasn't a whole lot the Stark sisters agreed on these days, not since Arya decided she'd rather act like a wild little boy than learning to a proper lady, but they could still agree that the stables were one of the best parts of living in Winterfell. Most mornings, the sisters could be found together, still usually bickering, but bonding over their mutual love of the horses. Naturally Arya liked to race and go as fast as possible while Sansa enjoyed more leisurely side saddle rides. 

Although she had gotten used to Orrina's presence at Winterfell, Sansa was surprised when the last two mornings, Orrina Mormont had joined her and Arya in the stables. She had been good company, if not a bit cheeky at times in a way that Sansa found herself biting the inside of her cheek, but the time spent in the stables she had found a more subdued Orrina. In fact this morning, Sansa was sure she had noticed the older girl's eyes were red from crying. 

Sansa figured it was because she was going to stay in Winterfell and not go back to the Wall with her grandfather. Her father had announced it at dinner two nights ago, that they would be fostering her. Sansa had already known, mother had told her already. The Lord Commander had specifically asked that Lady Stark take an interest in his granddaughter and help teach her to be a real lady. Sansa thought her mother had her work cut out for her, Orrina was better mannered than Arya for the most part, but Arya didn't know how to swing a sword like Orrina did. She had heard Robb talking to Jon how Orrina nearly bested him. Plus Sansa had seen the battle axe that Orrina had worn into Winterfell. 

Still, she liked the older girl. She didn't seem as stubborn as her sister, she would at least entertain nice dresses and clothing, she also brushed her hair more than Arya and probably bathed more. Sansa thought she should take her womanly duties a bit more seriously, she was at the right time to be married and would have to run her own house and usually that didn't require knowing how to fight. But Sansa found herself admiring her confidence and ability to speak her mind. She noticed that Orrina never really shied away from sharing what was on her mind. 

Except for now. 

Sansa watched her hastily wipe her eyes and push herself up from a bale of hay and force a smile on her face, despite the still watery eyes. She was tempted to ask her what was wrong, but they weren't close enough where Sansa thought it was appropriate, and she had the feeling Orrina would lie about it anyways. Sansa didn't really understand why the older girl was so upset about staying in Winterfell anyways. The Wall sounded awful, it was even colder there and surrounded by all those men. Winterfell would be much kinder to her. 

"What's wrong, why were you crying?"

Even if Sansa was still entertaining the idea of asking Orrina what was wrong, she didn't need to wait to ask her. Arya like usual had no filter, and Sansa wasn't surprised that her sister had jumped into asking herself. 

"It's rude to pry, Arya!" Sansa chastised her. Arya's manners always seemed to go out the window in times like this and she felt as her older sister, it was her responsibility to show her how to act properly. 

"It's okay Sansa, really." Orrina stepped between the girls, as Arya stuck her tongue out at her and blew a raspberry in her sisters direction. "I'm just going to miss my grandfather, he's leaving tonight," she sighed and made her way over to a stable which Sansa knew was the horse she rode in on. 

"You can still write him, can't you?" Arya had followed her over, close on her heels kicking up a cloud of dirt in her wake. 

"Of course, but it won't be the same," Orrina didn't elaborate, and instead just started to brush her horses mane. 

"Aren't you excited though? I'm sure my father is going to find you a very handsome and strong man to marry. And then you can start your own family!" Sansa asked, with a bit of a dreamy sigh. She couldn't wait for the day that she got married. She had dreamed of her own wedding day and future husband too many times to count. Her very own Florian. 

Sansa had been surprised that Orrina knew the story of Jonquil and Florian, but one of the first days she had spent with the girl from Bear Island, they had discussed their love of the tale. She thought Orrina would be excited for her chance to find her knight. 

"Come on, let's go for a ride." The older girl changed the topic quickly, away from the talk of marriage and weddings. Sansa watched as she quickly pulled herself up on her horse, sans saddle and nudged her horse, Vetle out of the stables. 

"Not everyone wants to married Sansa!" Arya hissed at her with an eye roll as she bounded over to her own horse to saddle. 

"Enough squabbling you two," Orrina voice carried through the barn before Sansa could open her mouth to retort. Instead she settled for Arya's childish example and stuck her tongue out at her before mounting her own horse. While Sansa situated herself, Arya raced ahead whipping her hair in the wind. 

Her sister was already doing laps around their riding area while Orrina waited for Sansa.

"Fancy a bit of a race today?" If Sansa hadn't just seen her crying, she would have never been able to guess that she had been. 

"I don't know.." she trailed off, a race might be fun but she knew that Arya would just beat her. 

"You're missing out." Orrina gave the younger girl a grin and cantered off with her horse, quickly picking up the pace until her long dark brown braid was bouncing off her back. Both her and Arya's shrieking laughter was filling the air as they raced around the enclosure together. 

"Wait for me!" Sansa called out as the two started taking off, digging her heels in to spur her horse faster and faster until her Tully red hair was flying in the wind and the sounds of her own laughter mixed in with theirs. 

**ORRINA**

While the girls raced around all morning, the staff of Winterfell was in full swing preparing a farewell meal for the Lord Commander and his new recruits. Jeor was able to secure a few good men to take back to the Wall with him while Orrina had been able to distract herself by spending the morning with the Stark sisters. 

But now she was dusty and saddle sore, and was actually quite happy with the frequency of baths available here unlike at the Wall. It was nice to sink into the bottom of the tub in the warm water. However the water had long run cold while Orrina contemplated what she would do. 

Part of her actually didn't mind staying in Winterfell, she liked the Starks. Lord Eddard was quiet, but still welcoming. Although she did not like how Lady Catelyn treated Jon, Lord Stark's wife was nothing short of kind to her. Orrina was growing to like all the Stark children, especially the more time she spent with them. There was no shortage of things to do at Winterfell, there was always someone around, someone who was happy to chat with her which wasn't always the case at the Wall. 

However, Orrina did not like the idea of having to share the same space, no matter how large, with Theon Greyjoy. It was bad enough biting her tongue at meals and seeing his sneering face. 

At her core, she knew she was afraid to be left behind by her grandfather. That was what scared Orrina the most. After her father left for Essos with his new, pretty young wife, and a mother long dead, the rest of the Mormonts were her life line. She looked to her Aunt Maege as a mother, and her cousins were more like sisters. Jeor had quickly replaced his son as her father figure and Orrina couldn't shake the feeling she was being abandoned by another father. 

But unlike her treacherous father, she knew that her grandfather wasn't leaving her behind in Winterfell, he wasn't selfishly abandoning her to save his own skin. As she got older, the Wall was less and less safe for her. The threat of Wildlings and their King Beyond the Wall, Mance Rayder grew stronger everyday. The only men sent to guard the wall, the shields of men, were low life criminals, with good men few and far between. 

Orrina was not oblivious to the hungry eyes of some of the men sentenced to their frozen penal colony. The rapists, thieves and killers, sent to live a life of celibacy. She was young and available, and although she could defend herself, she did not forget the song about Danny Flint. Her grandfather would not always be there to protect her. 

If it wasn't Winterfell, she knew that it was only a matter of time before Orrina was sent back to Bear Island. 

She may not be able to act like herself, truly here at Winterfell, under the watchful eye of Lady Stark, who held very traditional and Southern views of how a woman should act, but Orrina wanted to see more of Westeros. She didn't want spend her life on the shore of Bear Island, waiting for the Ironborn to come. She didn't want to live in the place of painful reminders of her father and her lost mother. It was the exactly the reason she gave her claim up, left Bear Island to her Aunt.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed the sound of knocking on her door. It wasn't until little Arya Stark stuck her head through the crack of the door that Orrina broke away from her thoughts. 

"Do you need help getting ready?" Arya asked sheepishly, averting her eyes away from the older girl as she quickly jumped out of the tub and dried herself off. 

Out of all the Starks, Arya was Orrina's favorite, she reminded her of herself at her age, but fortunately, she had much more freedom. Her father's new bride had tried to instill some "lady" manners in her but her Aunt Maege quickly put an end to that. Lynese Hightower hadn't liked the sight of her aunt's morningstar, nor her axe.

"Of course, you can come in Arya." Orrina slipped in her small clothes, ringing her dark hair out over the tub. For once the youngest Stark daughter's hair was nicely brushed and simply styled. "You look very nice."

Arya scoffed, closing the door behind her and trailed over to Orrina's meager clothing pile. "Not really," she mumbled, thumbing through her dresses. 

"You look much prettier than I did at your age. I was all knobby elbows and you couldn't even brush my hair." Orrina felt for Arya, it must be hard for her to compete with a sister like Sansa. She grabbed her dress in Mormont colors and slid it on. Lady Stark had been kind enough to gift her a few dresses that had been tailored for her, with the promise of more since she was staying. Orrina had to hold her tongue that she would have preferred more britches, or maybe even a new set of mail. 

Still, she could learn how to fight properly in a dress this way. 

The pair finished getting ready for their dinner, while giggling away, and Orrina let Arya fasten her hair in a not so neat braid, but Arya was proud of it, so she left it alone. They made their way down to the dining hall, Arya's hand clasped in the older girls, swaying between them. 

They were the last to arrive, and Orrina noticed that much to Lady Stark's disdain, that Jon Snow was seated at the High table with them. Her curtsies had gotten better since being at Winterfell so she dropped into a quick one before taking her spot next to her grandfather, a little sad she was leaving Jon alone at the other end. 

Dinner was a nice affair, it wasn't exactly lively but there was plenty of conversation going around, except for Jon who mostly sat quietly and kept to himself. Orrina herself wasn't too talkative either, knowing that by the time their sup was over that her grandfather and newly acquired men would be leaving. He had wanted to leave at first day light, but she had managed to persuade him to stay for one final dinner. It would be dark by the time they left Winterfell but they would still be able to cover decent ground. The closer they got to the Wall it would be more dangerous with the wildlings crossing, but otherwise an uneventful journey. 

After the meal had been finished, Jeor Mormont raised his glass to Ned Stark. For providing him hospitality, for the men he provided to the Wall, and most importantly for fostering his only grandchild. 

After her grandfather sat, Orrina found herself pushing herself up onto her feet, her own glass gripped tightly in her hand. "If it would be alright, I would like to sing a song for my grandfather, since it may be awhile until he can hear me sing again," she looked towards the head of the table, at Lord Stark who nodded his head in approval.

Singing had always been deeply personal to Orrina, ever since her father told her that her voice was as sweet as her mothers. It was the one thing she had to hold onto of Evya Glover. She sang often for her father when she was young, more for her aunt and cousins, and the most for her grandfather. Occasionally she could be roused to sing during dinner times with the Black Brothers, but her talent was mostly reserved for her family. Deep in her heart, Orrina knew this may be the last time she saw her grandfather, maybe the last time he heard her sing so she didn't want to let this moment pass, even if she was embarrassed by the Stark family watching her. 

Instead she closed her eyes, straightened her back and started a low, sorrowful melody. She couldn't bring herself to sing a happy song when she knew how much she would miss the man who replaced her father figure. 

_My head was warm  
My skin was soaked  
I called your name 'til the fever broke  
When I awoke  
The moon still hung  
The night so black  
That the darkness hums_

_I raised myself  
My legs were weak  
I prayed my mind be good to me  
An awful noise filled the air  
I heard a scream  
In the woods somewhere_

_A woman's voice  
I quickly ran  
Into the trees  
With empty hands_

_A fox it was  
He shook afraid  
I spoke no words, no sound he made_

_His bone exposed  
His hind was lame  
I raised a stone to end his pain  
What caused the wound  
How large the teeth?  
I saw new eyes were watching me_

_The creature lunged  
I turned and ran  
To save a life I didn't have  
Dear in the chase  
There as I flew  
Forgot all prayers of joining you_

_I clutched my life and wished it kept  
My dearest love  
I'm not done yet  
How many years  
I know I'll bear  
I found something  
In the woods somewhere_

Orrina ended on a high note, eyes down cast. She felt her grandfather reach out and take her hand, and squeeze as the other people at the table applauded her quietly. Orrina blinked away the tears building up in her eyes and smiled politely at everyone, their faces blurring together under her tears. Jon's face stood out to her, shining out through her watery eyes. 

Once she sat down, her grandfather moved his arms around her shoulder in a rare display of affectionate and gave her small squeeze. 

"You have such a lovely voice!" Sansa gushed from across the table, while Arya nodded along in agreement. 

"A rare treat, she doesn't sing for very many people." Jeor said with very clear pride. 

The rest of the dinner passed quickly, a small dessert for everyone before calling it an evening. The Starks bid the Lord Commander a farewell, who in turn insisted that he see himself and his new men out without fanfare. Only Orrina accompanied them to the gates of Winterfell, darkness quickly spreading across the sky. 

Finally alone, Orrina was able to hug her grandfather tightly, face buried into the black furs of his coat. It was cold outside in only her dress but she didn't care, the sting of her tears on her face didn't nearly compare to the ache she felt in her chest. 

"Stop being silly girl, this isn't the last you'll see of this Old Bear." Jeor comforted her in his guff voice, hand gentle against the back of her head. He knew his granddaughter would have a hard time with this. She had gone off the rails when Jorah ran off. Orrina was grown now, so he hoped she would handle this with more grace. 

Biting back a rude retort, Orrina said nothing but hugged her grandfather tighter. She worried she would not find herself again at the Wall, nor would the Old Bear leave his post for another long while. Still, she didn't want her parting words to be angry, even if that's what she felt. She felt like a silly little girl again, crying but she couldn't help herself. 

"You will behave yourself, I don't want to hear anything from the Starks," Jeor said mostly in jest. Orrina may have been rough around the edges after her upbringing, but she was still a good girl, a good girl who he felt deserved the best and he would do what he could for her. "And stay away from the Greyjoy boy," he added, more seriously. 

"I will." Not necessarily a lie, she would stay away from Theon as long as he left her be, which she found doubtful. She would try her best not embarrass her grandfather. "Will you write when you get back?" She felt like a child for asking but she wouldn't leave it unsaid. 

"Of course." 

"And have Maester Aemon write as well?"

"I will tell him," his response was slower this time, he didn't need all of his men writing to his granddaughter but if it brought her joy, he would see to it that Aemon wrote her once or twice. 

The pair stood like that for second longer, Orrina hugging him tightly before finally pulling back and letting her arms drop. "Okay, you should be off before it gets too dark." 

The tears were still noticeable in her eyes, but she wasn't sniffling anymore. It was alarming how quickly she could turn off her emotions, but Jeor admired it in her all the same. She was a special girl, that granddaughter of his. 

"Take care of yourself little cub," he dropped a kiss to the top of her head, and gave her one final hug before stepping away from her and climbing onto his horse to lead his men out of Winterfell. 

Orrina knew she should have gone inside then, she could feel the cold down to her bones, but she forced herself to watch him and his men mount and leave. Watched as the gates to Winterfell slammed shut behind him, the sound rattling in her ears. And stood for some time even after that, until the sounds of the horses hooves were long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this chapter took me a little longer than I expected!! I usually do all of my writing at work (in between of getting puppy kisses) and it's been a little more busy lately. But I hope you enjoyed this new chapter! I really wanted to show Orrina's vulnerability. She has a lot of abandonment issues and is actually very sensitive, even if she tries to act like she isn't. She was really really affected by her father leaving her and I wanted to develop that. 
> 
> Also song credit goes to Hozier! It is called In the Woods Somewhere and it's beautiful. His music is a huge inspiration for me and this series.
> 
> The next five or so chapters will be snippets of the next year at Winterfell and showing her and Jon's relationship. I also want to show her growing friendship with the other Starks. I hope to incorporate some of their POVs too. I really liked writing Sansa and hope I did her justice! Around chapter 10 is when we should get onto the timeline of AGOT.
> 
> I would love to hear what you think in the comments, they mean the world to me!


	6. It's the Fire it Ignites

**ORRINA**

The first few weeks at Winterfell slowly slipped by as Orrina found her groove and a new routine. Living in Winterfell was very different than living at the Wall, and even more different than living on Bear Island. It was strange not being expected to do chores, she was used to spending a good part of her day in the kitchens with Hobbs, or even with Maester Aemon helping him care for his ravens. At Winterfell, there was no such expectation. 

She had been spending her days mostly with Lady Stark and her daughters. Like herself, Arya was not overly fond. But at least Orrina was not subjected to Septa lessons. Catelyn had gently tried to nudge her in that direction, raving about Septa Mordane and how great she was, and how much Sansa was learning, but Orrina put her foot down. She did not follow the Seven and she was not interested in listening to a Septa drone on and on about The Stranger, and The Father or whatever else they named their gods. 

She was happy following her Old, nameless Gods.

Plus it also freed her days more, allowing Orrina to indulge in the things she really enjoyed. Even though she wasn't expected to do chores, she still liked to sneak into the kitchens, there was a comforting feeling in cooking. It also meant that she was able to sneak out into the training yard, although she had a feeling there wasn't anything that happened in Winterfell that Lady Catelyn wasn't aware of. 

Orrina was respectful enough not to whip out her axe in the middle of the day when Lord Stark's wife might come across her. Instead she watched the men train, reminding her of days spent doing the same at the Wall. It gave her an opportunity to talk to Jon more which Catelyn did not approve of, that much she was sure of.

The Lady of Winterfell never spoke out directly against her training with arms, (which Orrina made sure to wake up early to stay in practice before most of the castle woke up) but her grandfather had specifically asked Catelyn to look after her and teach her to be more lady like. So while Lady Stark never explicitly told her that she couldn't go into the training yard, it was expected that she did it on her own time and she was to be respectful about it. 

Outside of time spent with Lady Stark, sneaking into the kitchens, and spending her mornings in the yard, Orrina spent some of her afternoons chasing Bran Stark around, scurrying up trees behind him. He had tried to persuade her to climb some towers with him, but she had quickly nixed that idea. She didn't even go to the top of the Wall for her fear of heights. 

Still, Bran was a funny kid. He had a big imagination and talked often about being a knight. Sometimes after he wore her out from climbing every tree he could get up into, he would beg her to practice sword fighting with discarded sticks and fallen branches. For his sake (and her energy levels), Orrina let him win. Bran reminded her of her cousin Lyanna, spirited and never tired. 

After spending the morning with Lady Stark and her daughters, Orrina retired back to her room to sit and read her newest letters. True to his word, her grandfather had written her twice now and Maester Aemon had sent her three letters. She recognized Chet's hand writing, but Maester Aemon made sure to sign his shaky signature to the bottom of all his letters to her. Her grandfathers messages had been short and to the point, but she knew he was thinking of her often or he wouldn't have written at all. 

Maester Aemon's were longer, and full of more detail. He kept her in the know of the ongoings at Castle Black. Hobbs' couldn't read nor write, but the Maester made sure to include that the old cook was thinking of her as well, and said he missed her singing and her quick fingers when it came to chopping his vegetables. Although she knew it was a lie, Maester Aemon said his ravens missed her as well, but she really knew they only cared about whoever was feeding them. It was still a nice sentiment and it made being away from them a little easier.

Her cousins had also written her. Dacey always made a point to write her, even when she was living at Castle Black. Alysane was never one for writing, so Dacey always included her in her messages. Jorelle wrote to her as well, less often than Dacey but she was sure to make Lyanna scrawl a message or a drawing to her as well on a separate parchment, and Lyra always attached her name at the ends of her letters too. 

It made her homesick, not just for Castle Black but for Bear Island as well. She may have wanted to see the world outside of her family home, but she still longed for the comforts of home, for the familiarity that her cousins provided. Maybe she would ask Lord Stark about journeying to Bear Island to see her family again. 

Still, even though she was feeling homesick, Orrina was finding her place in Winterfell. The Starks were easy to get along with, and she was quickly finding a confidant in Jon Snow. 

They didn't have a lot of moments to spend together, but she found him easy to talk to when they did. Often times, they sat together early in the morning, sometimes before training, sometimes after but before Winterfell woke up. At first their conversations were stilted, Jon very unsure of himself talking to her, fearing the repercussions of being a bastard. 

Slowly but surely, their conversations came more alive and they were able to speak freely to one another. For Jon's sake, Orrina tried to keep the conversations light, not bringing up his station as Ned Stark's baseborn son. They talked about his siblings, how close he was to Arya, Robb and Bran. He had been the one to warn her that Bran would try to talk her into climbing the abandoned towers with him so she was prepared to turn him down gently. 

He asked her a lot of questions about her life on Bear Island. So she told him about the engraved woman with her bare breast, feeding babe and the axe in her other arm. She told him about how her aunt put a weapon in her hand the moment she could stand. Her father had been against it, but no one told Maege Mormont how to live her life. Certainly not her brother's lackwit son. Orrina told him about her stubborn aunt, and her aunt's equally stubborn daughter. She told him how beautiful her cousin Dacey was but how deadly she could wield her morningstar. She told him about Lyra and Jorelle who were as close as twins, and fought even harder, mostly with each other, but like their mother, they were just as vicious in battle. 

She told him about Alysane, and how she had her mother's dry sense of humor. And her two hellions, Fyda and Dawsin. She hadn't met Dawsin yet, but her cousin wrote her often to tell her that her children kept her on her toes. They talked about Lyanna, and how she shared his long dead aunt's name but how much she reminded her of Bran, full of imagination and inability to take no for an answer. 

They even talked and laughed about her grandfather, the respected Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and how his snoring could awaken the giants beyond the Wall. Jon could tell she loved him fiercely and missed him even more. Orrina avoided the topic of her father as much as Jon avoided talking about his mother. But like with all things, it eventually came up.

Again, the two found something else to bond over. At least Orrina knew her mother's name, and even had the faintest idea of who she was. Jon didn't even have that much, and it hurt her to know that Ned Stark was keeping that very vital information from his son. Jon tried to pretend like it didn't bother him, but Orrina could tell it did. 

So instead, she told him about her mother, and the few details she knew. She told him how everyone said that she looked like her, with her rich brown hair, and her equally dark eyes. She told him that apparently she also inherited her mother's stubbornness along with her smile. Orrina even told him that the reason she liked to sing was because of her mother and it was one of the few things she could hold onto. She had never told anyone else that before, and she noticed the softness that touched Jon Snow's eyes every time he looked at her after that. 

He didn't want to hear rumors about his own mother, after Orrina offered to see if anyone would tell her something about Jon's mysterious mother. He wanted the truth, from his father. He knew no one else could offer it, even though he did appreciate the effort that she was willing to give. It was more than he was afforded by most people. 

Most of the times though, they mostly just sat together and talked idly about Winterfell. Jon steered clear talking about Lady Stark, and any time Orrina tried to question him, she saw how tense he got, how his grey eyes darkened and he merely shook his head. It would be very easy for him to talk badly about her, Orrina wouldn't have blamed him. Not with the way that Lady Stark turned to stone around him, refusing to even acknowledge his presence. Not for the first time, nor the last, she thought Jon was going to carry that same honourable reputation that his father held. 

Even if she thought he was a bit thick for it. 

Still, spending time with Jon had been her favorite part of staying in Winterfell. She cherished the early mornings they would spend talking to each other, even if she had to spend it in the cold mornings, so cold they could see their breath in front of them. Usually their conversations would come to an end when the rest of the castle started to wake up and they could hear others making their way to the training yard, springing apart so no one would find them huddled together whispering to each other. Orrina didn't care if others saw them together, but Jon certainly did. 

Usually it was just Robb who joined them, or even Ser Rodrik. The Master of Arms didn't approve of her at first, unsure of a girl her age and her interest in weapons. He didn't mind Arya running around, she was still young but Orrina was old enough that her interest should have been more aligned with Sansa's. But she proved to be proficient and he noted with a bit of delight that she could keep the young future Lord of Winterfell and his brother on his toes so he let her linger until Lady Stark would come looking for her.

The problems arose when Theon would join Robb or he would saunter into the yard interrupting them. Orrina was still struggling holding her tongue around the Greyjoy boy, and it seemed that Ned Stark either didn't have a firm enough tone with the young man or he just didn't care. He was never outright disrespectful but he still made snide comments around Orrina that made it difficult not to want to remove his head from his shoulders. 

Cocky bastard.

She just tried her best to avoid him, to keep her promise to Lord Stark. So even though Orrina would have loved to join them in practicing, now that she was free from lessons with the Septa, she knew Theon would be there so she retired to her room to write letters back to her family. She wrote a quick letter to her grandfather, he wasn't one for overly long responses. A longer letter for Maester Aemon, and the longest to her family on Bear Island.

By the time she finished, she could still hear the tell tale clashes of fighting from her window. Perhaps it wasn't her smartest idea, but she couldn't pass up an afternoon training session if she had the free time for it. So Orrina sealed her letters, passed them off to be went out with the ravens the next morning and scurried down to the yard. 

**JON**

Jon wasn't expecting Orrina to show up to the yard this late in the day, if she did make an appearance, it was usually in the morning. He wasn't usually such an early riser, but when he realized that's when she would be there, he started forcing himself to wake up earlier so he could have an excuse to spend time with her. 

Quickly over the last weeks that Orrina had been in Winterfell, he had come to cherish their usual early morning conversations. Outside of his siblings, it was the first time that he felt like he wasn't being treated differently. He didn't feel like she was only being polite because she had too. For once, he felt like she spent time because she wanted too and she enjoyed their conversations as much as he did. It was a strange feeling for Jon, and he felt his heart rate start to pick up whenever he thought about her for a second too long. 

Despite this, he was surprised to see her making her way over to them this late in the afternoon. She looked pretty with her hair braided in a long single thick braid down her back, there were little pieces sticking out of her braid that were framing her face. Usually she wore her breeches when she joined him in the mornings, but she wore a simple, unlike Sansa's usual detailed ones, dress today. Long sleeved and black, he noticed that for the most part, Orrina dressed in all black like the men of the Watch. 

Not shy about being seen with him, Orrina waved at him happily as he blushed and turned away from her after a quick wave back. Greyjoy had joined him and Robb, and he didn't need the older boy to pick up on that. He would be sure to tease both him and Orrina mercilessly about him being a bastard. Frankly, he wasn't in the mood for it. Not that he was ever in the mood for any of Theon's antics usually. 

Theon might not have not noticed the tinge of pink in Jon's cheeks, but he did let out a low whistle at the sight of Orrina. He didn't know if his father had spoken to Greyjoy, but he needed to do it again if he did. Jon stifled a groan, perhaps it was wishful thinking that they could have avoided this confrontation all together. 

He watched as Orrina ignored him pointedly and instead came to stand next to him, arms crossed, and lips pursed. He noticed she was clenching her jaw, she did that a lot around Greyjoy, but likely just did that whenever she was angry. So far no one besides the Kraken has been able to provoke her ire. 

"Hello Robb, Jon." She greeted them simply, making another point to exclude Theon.

"Come to watch your bastard boy get whipped by a real man?" Theon snickered. 

"Actually, Jon, I was hoping that you could show me a few moves, since I'm more comfortable with my axe rather than a sword." She didn't even spare a look in his direction, choosing again to ignore his comments. Jon could imagine that she was picturing hitting Theon with said mentioned axe. Robb looked uncomfortable with the tension, torn between telling Theon to knock it off, as he rather liked Orrina as well, or just letting the argument fizzle out. 

"Do you really think you'll be able to beat a man? Especially in that dress? Shouldn't you be inside sewing with Sansa?" Theon didn't give Jon a chance to answer her request, roughly butting in. 

"If you'd like Greyjoy, I would be more than happy to knock you into the dirt, especially while wearing this dress," Orrina turned quickly to face him, the angry flush in her cheeks becoming more prominent. Her hands were balled into fists at her side as she took a step towards him, a challenging look taking over her features. 

Before Theon could even reply, she stomped over to where the training swords were kept and yanked one out. Jon was starting to wish that Ser Rodrik had actually been supervising this session, he would have put a stop whatever ugly thing was about to happen here. 

"Go, get your sword." Orinna planted her feet, twirling her practice sword, a fierce look in her eyes. They didn't know each other for very long, but Jon had felt a connection to her right away and still, he had never seen a look quite like this in her eyes before. It came close to the first time she saw Theon. But that time was more unfiltered anger and this time there was determination in her eyes.

Jon looked to Robb, and they shared a look knowing that they should put a stop to this. It was in the middle of the day. It was inappropriate, their father would not approve, nor would Lady Catelyn, especially. But Jon looked to Orrina and knew that no matter what he said, she would not back down. He knew that much about her already. They talked a lot about her family on Bear Island and he knew of the bad blood of the Ironborn and her family. Theon could beat her mercilessly into the ground and she would bounce back up until she beat him. 

He shared another look with his brother, they had always been close and could communicate on looks alone sometimes, and this was one of those times. They would have to step back and watch this play out, and face the consequences. 

"Shouldn't we try to stop this? Just so we can say that we did?" Robb muttered to him, watching apprehensively as Theon took his time taunting Orrina and slowly picking sword he would be using. 

"Probably," Jon responded in a low tone. "It won't do any good, we both know that they've been circling each other since Lady Orrina arrived." Although they spoke casually together, Jon made sure to keep up addressing her properly around other people, even his own brother, less anyone take their friendship the wrong way. 

"Shouldn't we be worried for her though?" Robb saw first hand Orrina's skill, but Jon knew that he, like many of the men in Winterfell, and in the North, didn't hold women in the same light as men as fighters. Ser Rodrik rarely let her spar with any of them, so he knew most of them saw her interest as a passing one. Jon knew that like her aunt, and cousins, Orrina was extremely prideful and even more so in her abilities as a fighter. 

"I'd be more worried for Greyjoy," he answered with a hint of a smirk. 

Finally when Theon's dramatics lost their affect, he selected his sword and stood opposite of Orrina, not seeming too concerned or even apprehensive. Not for the first time, Jon thought it was good they didn't have real steel in their hands because the girl from Bear Island was out for blood. 

She didn't even wait for Theon to find his footing, didn't wait for anyone to declare the start of the match, Jon watched in admiration, and slight horror, Orrina launch herself at Theon Greyjoy. She did not hold back, even though it wasn't a real sword to take his head. She wasted no time and aimed blow after blow at the older boy. Theon may not have been prepared for her initial attack, but after a stumble, he was able to block her blows. Orrina did not let up in her assault, and Jon hoped she would stop thinking with anger and pace herself. Before meeting Orrina and hearing about her cousins, Jon thought similarly to his brother but after hearing of the strength of the women warriors of her home, he knew she could beat Theon, if she would just properly pace herself for it. He was tempted to call out to remind her, but thought better of it. He would love to see the cocky ward get his ass handed to him, but she would have to do it of her own merit. 

The fight went on like this for a while, the only sounds were Orrina's grunts of frustration and a few meaningless japes Theon could muster up between blocking her blows. Soon though, she realized she couldn't keep up her unrelenting attack and backed off, nearly tripping over the hem of her dress. Theon let out a loud laugh, one that rang across the yard. He didn't need to say it, his laugh said it all. 

_I told you so._

A growl escaped from Orrina's throat, surprising all three boys and Jon watched again in equal parts horror and admiration, Orrina used the dull tip of her practice sword and stabbed it into her dress and cut hastily. She ripped the bottom half of her dress off in a jagged, messy line, making the long dress fall just short of her knees. Theon was taken back by this action and didn't have time to block her this time. Orrina took her opening, hitting him hard in the ribs with the edge of her sword, throwing her whole body into it. She swept under his arm, aiming her next attack to the back of knee, letting own her own peel of laughter as he stumbled. 

Theon turned and his sword barely made contact before she tucked and rolled, sticking out her foot and hooking it around his ankle and yanking him down. He managed to catch himself but Orrina was prepared and was ready to fight dirty. She lifted her sword to hit him again, and while he blocked that move, she pulled her other arm back and punched him full force in the side of the face. If Greyjoy protested this (and Jon knew he would), Orrina did not give him a chance to tell her so. She reared back again, this time using both hands wrapped around the hilt of her weapon and threw it against his middle. Theon fell with a hard thump onto his back, panting from the effort of their match. His head bounced roughly off the ground and before he could protest, Orrina Mormont stood over him, foot on his chest, pushing him back into the ground, the point of her sword at his throat.

Jon watched, an odd feeling in his chest, not sure if it was it pride. Or was it just pure joy to see Greyjoy get taken down by a girl of all people? Did a part of him enjoy seeing Orrina like this? He thought she was beautiful, and she made him laugh, but this was a different side of her. He saw the sweat dripping down her face, causing streaks of dirt to appear on her cheeks, her dress a horrible mess, and her hair not better. Her chest was heaving from the fight, and he thought this was the most beautiful he had seen her. 

"Yield!" Orrina shouted loud enough that those who hadn't noticed the vicious fight take place had turned to see what was going on. 

"You fucking bitch!" 

"Yield Greyjoy!" She snarled again, pressing the tip of the sword harder against his throat. 

There was a pregnant pause as the older boy contemplated what to do, Jon could see him working it out. He did not want to yield to her, not to a girl, not to a Mormont, but she had clearly bested him. 

"You didn't fight fairly!"

At that, Orrina didn't bother with a reply and just let out a humorless laugh and put more weight onto the foot on Theon's chest. 

"Fine, I yield, you crazy whore!" Theon pushed her away from him roughly, scrambling to his hands and back onto his feet. 

"What in the Seven Hells is going on here?" The four of them turned to see Ser Rodrik stalking towards them, followed closely by his father, his siblings and Jon noted miserably, his wife. 

Jon expected Orrina to drop her weapon, but instead she stood defiantly, still gripping it tightly. "Ask the Squid." She didn't wait around long to hear what anyone else had to say to her, Orrina Mormont threw her weapon down at Theon's feet, giving him a final look of contempt before throwing her braid over her shoulder and walking back into the walls of Winterfell. She didn't run, stomp, nor did she gloat. She calmly left, even leaving the remaining fabric of her torn dress behind. Later Jon would look back and remember the looks of astonishment on his family's faces and laugh. He already knew he felt for Orrina differently than anyone he had met before, but that moment, watching her walk away from punishment, from judgement and from beating Theon Greyjoy, sealed the deal for him more than anything else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is shorter than my others but it's definitely one I've had the most fun writing! I really really REALLY love the Mormont women and I got to touch more on them in this chapter. I can't wait for them to be more involved in the future. I really want to establish how close Orrina is with her family and just how much they've shaped her and how much they mean to her. 
> 
> I also really enjoyed writing her kicking Theon's ass. He's such a swarmy little shit in the beginning, I couldn't wait to knock him down a few pegs but I also wanted to keep it semi-realistic. I knew that Orrina being petite and a girl that she wouldn't be able to over power him on pure strength. Our little Bear cub knows how to fight dirty and isn't afraid to do so, or get dirty in the process!
> 
> I'm also very excited for the next chapter as well. I've been trying to show Orrina adjusting and fitting into life with the Starks, but next chapter will be completely devoted to Jon and Orrina and their budding relationship!
> 
> As always, I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. They seriously make my DAY and motivate me when I'm feeling lazy and would rather binge tv than write :)


	7. Imagine Being Loved by me

**JON**

It took several days to see Orrina back at the training yard, it seemed that was her punishment for starting a fight with Theon. She stopped coming in the afternoons unless she was accompanied by Sansa, or even Arya but Jon was happy to see her all the same. He was used to waking up early now, and his mornings had been lonely without her to talk too. However it was almost worth it, seeing Theon sulk around Winterfell, clearly having to hold his tongue when people remarked how he got beaten by a girl. 

Nearly two weeks after the scuffle with Theon, Orrina met him in the yard, waiting for him. He was surprised when she wrapped her arms around him in greeting and wouldn't let go until he stiffly pat her back. She only practiced with him briefly, Lord Stark didn't explicitly say she couldn't train nor would he ban her, but it was implied she should spend less time there. Instead, Orrina asked him to meet her at the glass gardens in the mornings instead. 

She promised to show him how she fought with her axe if he agreed. 

So he did. 

The next morning, she beat him to their meeting place again, but it gave Jon a chance to admire her from a distance before she noticed his presence. Since coming to Winterfell, he rarely saw her in her breeches, and today was no exception. It looked like Sansa had tailored another dress for the older girl. He knew it was Sansa's handiwork because the fabric wasn't in her traditional black. Only his sister would be able to persuade her to wear a dress like this. Intricate lace, laid over a blue fabric. She almost always wore long sleeves, with a dipped neckline.

Orrina moved amongst the various plants, her long dark hair in a silky curtain down her back. He wished he could run his fingers through it, blushing at the thought. The early morning light filtered through the glass roof made it almost seem like her eyes were aglow. There was a softness in her face Jon wasn't used to seeing, watching as her delicate fingers traced over the leaf of a growing flower. 

Finally Jon cleared his throat and made his way over to her, always surprised when she greeted him with a warm smile. 

"I was starting to think you abandoned me, Jon Snow." She teased him lightly, nudging him with her shoulder. 

"No, I must just enjoy sleeping more than you do." 

Jon still felt awkward, not addressing her as formally as he should but Orrina would hear nothing of it. After she punched him hard enough in the arm to make it go numb, he dropped the formalities if nothing for the sake of his limbs. Every now and then he would still slip and call her Lady, only to be met with a raised eyebrow, and pointed look. 

Orrina said nothing, just laughed and as always, it stirred something in his chest and he had to quickly avert his eyes away from hers. 

"Come now, show me these famous winter roses this garden is so famous for," Orrina boldly put her arm through his, and started to tug him towards the back of the garden. Jon had never had a girl, let alone a Lady be so familiar with him. He wanted to enjoy this moment, to straighten himself up and proudly lead her around the garden but he couldn't help what would happen if someone walked in on them right at this moment. 

Lady Catelyn would probably demand that Jon not speak to Orrina anymore, banning them from seeing each other all together. HIs father wouldn't be so harsh, but would quietly remind him that he ought not be so bold with high born ladies, no matter what Orrina said. His father tried not to throw his bastardy into his face, but it seemed he almost always relented to his wife who did nothing to hide her dislike of him. 

All because he was born a Snow. 

He couldn't help but think if he was his father's trueborn son, if he was Jon Stark. He would allowed to openly speak with Orrina, even court her if he wished. He wouldn't have to wake up before the sun just to have a few moments without anyone's judgmental eyes on them. He couldn't imagine a life where Catelyn Stark was kind to him, kind to him in a way that she was with her children. She would never brush his hair off his brow like she did with Robb, nor embrace him like she did with Bran. But he could imagine a life where he was at least able to talk to a girl freely, without worrying. 

"Jon," Orrina called his name softly, her forehead wrinkled in concern. She must have picked up on his sudden mood change, he could feel himself frowning. 

"It's fine," he brushed her off. He felt bad for his new sour mood, but he couldn't help it. Instead he lead her to the back corner where the Winter Roses lived and regrettably pulled his arm from hers. He was fooling himself, letting him fall into a fantasy where he could be more than Ned Stark's bastard son, he didn't want to drag her down with him. 

Orrina said nothing at first, but Jon noticed the tell tale sign of her clenched jaw from the corner of his eye. She let out a breathy sigh and gently touched one of the petals. The roses weren't in full bloom yet, but the petals were starting to unfurl showing off the frosty blue that matched her dress. 

"They are beautiful," she remarked, quietly all too aware of the sudden shift between them. 

"They were my Aunt Lyanna's favorite. Once they are fully bloomed, my father will cut one to place in the crypts." Jon found the words hard to get out, watching Orrina rather than looking at the roses. A silence fell between them and Jon desperately wanted to fill it but instead stood quietly, hands clasped in front of him. 

"Are you regretting coming to meet me?" He should have known that she wouldn't be afraid to speak her mind. Part of him wished she would have let the moment pass, and they could go their separate ways without speaking of it. But if nothing else, Orrina was the kind of person who always said what she was thinking. 

"It's not that," Jon started, he wanted to tell her how he felt, but he also wanted to put distance between them. How he felt was not appropriate. It wasn't ever going to happen so he should just let go of the idea now. He had probably misjudged the situation anyways. Orrina was only friendly to him because she felt bad for him, and her cousins were bastards too, she said so herself. She was just a nice person, and he had blown it up to something it wasn't all because he was desperate for someone to not see him as a bastard.

"Then what is it? Because for a moment you looked happy to see me and now you don't." There was almost a sense of pleading in her words. 

"What if someone came in here and saw us together?" He didn't mean to raise his voice at her, but he was frustrated, for so many different reasons. 

"Why would that even matter? We can't look at flowers together?" 

"No because I'm a bastard! And whether you like it or not, you are a Lady." She just didn't get it. She may not be the typical sort of Lady most dealt with, but she was born with the right family name. It didn't matter that things were different on Bear Island. They weren't in Bear Island and he needed to Orrina to understand that. "Whatever idea you had of us being friends, isn't possible," Jon bit out, looking away from her. 

"You know I don't care about that," Jon couldn't bring himself to look back at her, but he could imagine that the corners of her mouth were down turned, he could see the lines between her eyebrows. 

"You should, other people do." He didn't give her another chance to retort, before turning and starting for the front of the green house. Away from her and her sad expressive eyes. 

Before he could get to the entrance, Jon felt her arm on his elbow pulling him back, keeping him from leaving.

"Then let's go somewhere that no one cares." He looked at her this time, wanting to smooth the skin where her eyebrows wrinkled together. "Lady Stark doesn't feel well. I can do whatever I want today. We could ride to Winter Town." 

It was still summer, which meant most of the town would be empty. There would be no prying eyes, no one to look at them disapprovingly. Jon knew he should have said no, that the honorable thing to do, the thing his father would have done. Let her down gently and keep his distance. They had no future together, no matter what Jon wished. None as friends, and certainly none as lovers. 

But when he looked to her, prepared to say no, that she shouldn't even leave Winterfell, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to go with her. He wanted to indulge himself this once. He spent so much of his life, feeling every bit the bastard he was and depriving himself for it. 

"Okay." He would allow himself this and then he would keep his distance. Selfish, he knew, but he wanted to feel one day without people seeing him differently. He wanted one day where he could escort a pretty girl around on his arm and not worry about if he was dishonoring her with his presence. 

**ORRINA**

She expected Jon to fight more, given his sudden mood change. Orrina was preparing to ask him to take her to Winter Town anyways, she had wanted to see it since they passed through, but she wasn't necessarily planning on going today. But Lady Stark was feeling ill, and with Sansa and Arya with their septa, it left Orrina's day open with nothing to do. 

And she found herself wanting to spend it with Jon. Winter Town provided to be the perfect plan, it gave them a chance to spend time together without Jon looking over his shoulder. She had to wonder if Ned hadn't told him of his and her grandfather's plans. She had heard nothing more of it since Jeor left, not from him nor Lord Stark. But maybe if Jon knew that their families were arranging a betrothal he wouldn't be so on edge. 

"Meet me at the stables, I don't want to get Sansa's dress dirty." Orrina squeezed his hand before taking off, before Jon could change his mind. He wouldn't leave her waiting at the stables. 

Quietly, but quickly, she made her way back to her room. She hadn't anticipating going riding today, or else she would have saved the beautiful dress Sansa made for her for another day. She shimmied out of the silk dress, and quickly pulled on one of her more well worn dresses. With a smile, she realized it was the same dress that she fought Theon in, but sew back together with the help of Sansa and Arya. She had reattached the torn fabric using a green thread Arya had picked out to match her house colors. 

Ideally she would have liked to wear her breeches, but she was already pushing her luck sneaking off with Jon. They would have to pass through the main gates to leave and come back, so it wasn't really sneaking, but she was sure some would think of it that way. Before meeting Jon, Orrina stole down into the kitchens. There were already people working away, she could smell the beginnings of breakfast already. 

Luckily for her, Orrina had been voluntarily doing chores in the kitchens, it reminded her of cooking with Hobbs, so not too many looked at her for being out of place. She had a small sack tucked under her arm and she snatched some freshly baked breads and cheese to eat with it. She was even able to sneak away an apple and a small flask of mead to share between them. 

Soon she was racing across the grounds of Winterfell, her hair flying behind her as she hurried to meet Jon. Sure enough, he stood awkwardly waiting for her return. There was doubt in his eyes, and Orrina knew she had to leave immediately before he changed his mind. "I have food!" She held up her sack triumphantly and went to Vetle's stall and saddled him up. She almost considered telling Jon they could share a horse, but she had a feeling that was a sure fire way to get him to change his mind. 

Instead, Orrina diligently threw on her saddle and pulled herself up and spurred Vetle out of his stall. Jon was already waiting for her again, mounted on his own horse, looking every bit the Stark everyone said he wasn't. His dark hair curled into his storm grey eyes that still held a look of doubt and insecurity. His long face was accentuated by the slight frown on his lips. 

"Stop looking so upset about the prospect of spending the day with me, Jon." She teased him, hoping to lighten the mood between them between nudging Vetle in the sides and leading him out of the stalls. 

They rode in silence to the Main Gate that would lead them out into Winter Town, waiting patiently while the gates opened for them. Jon may have not liked being Lord Stark's bastard but it also meant that no one questioned them. They opened the gates and they set out, Orrina's bag of goodies swaying from her saddle. 

They didn't speak until they were well into town, the sun was finally starting to rise, and the few people in Winter Town were waking up. Jon lead her and Vetle to the stables where they hitched their horses and took off on foot. Apparently there was a small stream where they could sit together in peace. Not that the few residents of Winter Town were clamoring to know who they were. 

The ground was cold and stiff, Orrina wished she had the foresight to bring a blanket with her for them to sit on, but Jon didn't seem to mind. His quiet mood from the gardens carried over and he wasn't in any hurry to talk so instead she pulled out the fresh bread, cheeses and apple she had taken. 

Even though Winterfell was safe for her, Orrina never stopped carrying an extra knife on her. Always sheathed and always tucked into her boot for safe keeping. Jon looked mildly surprised when she pulled it out and started cutting up the apple, but didn't say anything just offered her a small smile and shake of his head. 

"Don't look surprised, you should know every woman in my family always has at least weapon on their person at any given time," she smiled back at him, bumping her shoulder into his, happy to see the miserable look from his face fade a bit.

"I suppose you're right," Jon chuckled, with a little more spirit. Orrina handed him the roughly cut hunk of bread, trying to ignore the tingle she felt in her spine when their fingers brushed over each other. 

They ate in a much more comfortable silence, stream bubbling at a lazy pace as the sun started to rise fully in the sky. Orrina noticed that slowly over time, they were leaning into each other until their shoulders were just barely touching. Feeling bold, she leaned into him more, even contemplating resting her head on his shoulder when she felt him stiffen. 

"You shouldn't," he said quietly, unwilling to fully pull away from her. 

"Why? Tell me why, Jon." Her words came out more heated than she intended as she straightened up to look at him, noticing how he wouldn't meet her eyes. 

"You know why," Jon started, stumbling over his words for a moment, until he looked up and saw the heat in Orrina's eyes. She didn't seem to understand at all, how hard this was for him. "You know exactly why, why are you making it harder?" Jon bit out after a minute, feeling his anger flush over him. 

"Do you think I really care about you being a Snow? That I would ever care?" Jon should have known Orrina wouldn't back down, if anything she doubled down. They hadn't known each other for long, but longer than most people their age who were getting married. More importantly, she cared about Jon. She had only been in Winterfell for a few months but Jon Snow had intrigued her from the start. And now she was starting to feel foolish for thinking he felt the same. 

"You should care! I can offer you nothing. I have no lands, no titles, not even a last name to give you," Jon stood up abruptly and turned away from her, cheeks red and fists clenched. 

"You are an idiot." Orrina didn't get up to follow him, and instead remained seating, arms crossed over her chest until he whirled back around to look at her, retort on his tongue. "I gave up my lands and my titles. I could have been Lady of Bear Island but I gave it back to my aunt because I don't care about that," she hastily brushed her dark hair from her eyes. "I thought you would have realized that by now."

Jon's response died in his throat, clearly he was thick and didn't realize. And Orrina realized that the thought of someone not caring about bastardy, not caring about lands or whatever Lords had to offer to their wives, never occurred to Jon either. So much of his life had revolved around being a bastard and what that meant for his future. 

"You know my grandfather asked your father to find a suitable husband for me," she continued after a long pause between them. "He hasn't been able to find someone willing to marry Jorah Mormont's daughter. Not after my father financially ruined our house. Many men aren't eager to marry their sons to Mormonts. None of my cousins are married either." 

"My grandfather told me that he asked your father to arrange a match between you and I," Orrina pushed herself up so she was standing across from Jon, the fire in her eyes replaced with something softer. "Even if he hadn't asked, I still wouldn't care about you being a Snow."

The silence stretched between them for a long moment, before Jon felt like he could safely look her in the face. Surely, she must have been jesting with him, there was no way that the Lord Commander would want his granddaughter to marry a bastard. 

"If you accuse me of lying about it Jon Snow, I swear to the Old Gods I will throw this knife at you."

Despite the tense situation, Jon had to laugh at that, breaking the tension like a crack through ice. "I didn't know any of that," he replied, fingers unfurling at his side. He had to wonder why his father hadn't told him. 

"I don't think it was official." Hesitantly, she took a step towards him, happy he didn't pull away from her this time. "He told me before he left, he wants me to marry for love, not for standing." She cared for Jon, she wasn't sure if she loved him yet, but she knew that she could, and if he allowed her too. 

"I have nothing to offer you, Orrina. I'm sure my father could find you a better match." He didn't step back as she inched closer to him though, despite what he was saying. Clearly he wasn't listening to her, it didn't matter how many times she said she didn't care. He wouldn't believe her. 

Instead Orrina reached out and took his hands into hers. "Please believe me when I tell you, it doesn't matter to me. I've grown quite fond of you by now Jon Snow, and that's all that does matter to me," she could feel her cheeks burning. She was a bold girl, she was told that more than once, but she had never been so bold with a boy before. "Do you feel the same?"

Brown eyes met his grey Stark eyes and the teens shared a shy smile between them. 

"I do." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright there you have it!! A chapter I've been DYING to write since I started this story. I've envisioned this scene so many different ways and I'm pretty happy with the end result. I wasn't sure if I was going to reveal the betrothal to Jon now, or in a later chapter, but I'm happy with it here. I was toying with adding more towards the end, but I thought it was a sweet note to end on. 
> 
> However, there is a reason this story is tagged as a slow burn and angsty. So enjoy the sweet moments while they last!! I should be starting the next chapter in the next day or so, after I recuperate from a rough week. So hopefully another chapter will be up in the next week or so. Please let me know what you think in the mean time, and what future angst you think I'm planning! Comments really fuel my muses so I would absolutely love to hear from you. Thank you so so much!!


	8. Remember me Love, when I'm Reborn

**ORRINA**

In the following weeks after her outing with Jon, he was more willing to spend time with Orrina in the open. Nothing was official so they were careful to keep their time together short or with someone else around. They didn’t want to give anyone the excuse to go to Lord Stark and tattle on them. Jon was still self-conscious but was starting to finally understand that Orrina meant what she said and she didn’t care whether he was true born or base born.

They still met in the mornings, before the sun was awake to train and spar together. Orrina finally got to show him how much more skilled she was with her axe and even impressed him with her axe throwing abilities. He had tried it himself and could barely just hit their target after a handful of times, and starting complaining of a sore elbow. 

Other times, they would meet after supp, rarely alone. Orrina usually invited Arya to join them, she was the closest to Jon and leaped at the invitation. It was a shame that Sansa seemed to take a similar stance towards Jon as her mother, or else Orrina would have liked to spend time with the red head.

Sometimes they would sneakily hold hands while watching Bran and Arya race each other in the courtyard. Other times she would ask Robb to escort her to the weirwood tree to pray, and she figured Jon must have told him as the Stark heir would always find something else to occupy his time with while they spent time alone together, but still found his way back to them so it didn’t look inappropriate. 

Orrina still wondered why Lord Stark hadn’t announced to his family what he and her grandfather discussed, and why her grandfather hadn’t brought it up since he left. She considered writing a letter to ask him, but his letters to her were always short and urges not to worry about him. 

Maester Aemon’s letters provided more detail about life at the Wall. The presence of Wildlings were growing stronger by the day, and they struggled with their numbers. Apparently her grandfather had appealed to many great Houses, only to have no new men sent to him. Maester Aemon didn’t give her the full story, but she could read between the lines and see the threat of the King Beyond the Wall seemed to grow larger every day. 

So she didn’t bother the Old Bear with pleas and wonderings of her upcoming betrothal. Truth be told, Orrina was in no rush. She was enjoying her time with Jon, whether it was alone or with his siblings. She had become accustomed to her new life in Winterfell and she wasn’t looking to change it up again so soon. 

Although it would be nice to travel to Bear Island to see her family with Jon. She dreamed of the day she could take him to her home and let him see it for himself. Her cousins would welcome him with open arms. Something she thought he sorely missed with his own family sometimes. 

If Lady Stark knew of their meetings, or thought them wrong, she said nothing of them to Orrina. Sometimes Orrina would catch the Lady watching her and Jon talk at dinner, with a frown on her face. But she didn’t question it in fear of her trying to keep her from Jon all together. Not that it would matter much to her, but she didn’t want to make Jon’s life any harder. 

With her blossoming relationship with Jon, and her foster parents pleased that she was making proper progress on being a “real Lady” (whatever that meant), life in Winterfell was turning out better than she originally imagined it when her grandfather told her she was staying behind. Even Theon kept his mouth shut around her, ever since she bested in during their duel, the older boy just glared at her and made pithy japes under his breath. Lord Stark must have properly talked to him this time because the Kraken didn’t bother her again. 

Tonight she was planning on meeting Jon in the small library with Arya by her side. Robb was busy chatting with Theon about some girl named Kyra or else she would have invited him as well. Bran and Rickon were both under the weather and be tended to by Maester Luwin. But Robb would have been nice to help distract Arya while her and Jon talked. 

Nothing had progressed further than hand holding between them, even though Orrina thought about kissing him constantly. No matter what she said about her reputation not mattering, Jon wanted to wait until his father officially announced their intent to marry. It was a sweet, and honorable gesture that she thought was stupid but she went along with it. 

Arya was as excitable as ever, buzzing around, gripping her elbow tightly. She knew how to read well, but her letters were still sloppy and she wanted her help practicing and maybe even reading some of her favorite stories about Targaryen warrior princesses when they were done. Jon would join them after some time, not wanting to seem too obvious by joining them outright. 

The pair was turning the corner and about to enter the library when the sounds of an argument hit them first. Orrina tried to pull Arya back, but she was a stubborn thing and surprisingly strong for someone so small and with such pointy elbows. 

“It’s my mother and father!” Arya hissed back at Orrina, waving the older girl forward to join her in her eavesdropping. 

“Arya, stop, we should go. We can come back!” Orrina attempted to pull her away again but Arya ignored her again. 

“They are talking about Jon,” if Arya was lying to get her to join in, it most certainly worked because Orrina quickly found herself sneaking up to her side, ears primed to listen in on the Stark’s conversation. 

“I told you before Ned, and I’ll say it again. I will not have him marry before Robb! What kind of message does that send?” Lady Stark wasn’t necessarily keeping her voice down, but it came out in a harsh whisper. 

Orrina felt herself stiffen, and a sudden realization dawned on her. If her grandfather and Ned Stark were planning on her and Jon to wed, they would have told them by now. Whatever was discussed when Jeor Mormont first came to Winterfell wasn’t going to happen judging by the anger in Catelyn’s voice. 

“Cat,” Ned started, his tone was much more even, trying to reason with her. There was something underneath though, a warning. 

“No! Imagine if he had children before Robb. No. I won’t allow it. I’ve already had to face the humiliation of having him here, raised along our children. I won’t let him marry before our son, before your heir.”

Orrina could see Arya’s face had gone white next to her, suddenly regretting her instinct to be nosy. Orrina felt that familiar tingling feeling of rage quelling up in her face. Her hands were clenched so tight, she could feel her short nails digging into the palm of her hand. 

There were many things she admired about Lady Stark, she was a kind woman, to everyone but Jon. She was clearly smart, and not just in the typical Southron way, all frills and no substance. But the way she treated Jon, and held his birth against him was something that Orrina could never come to terms with. 

“Do you really think Jon wants to take Winterfell away from Robb?” Before she realized what she was doing, Orrina had stepped through the door fully, the dull candle flame lightening up her face. The flames from the candles may have lit the room, but they were nothing compared to the flames in her eyes. 

Both Ned and Catelyn turned to look at her, surprised by the interruption and surprised by her boldness. 

“Jon loves his family more than anything, even if you don’t show him the same,” she cut in again, before either of them could respond. 

“Lady Orrina, this is not your place.” Ned’s voice was always quiet, but still held it’s usual tone of authority. The Warden never had to raise his voice to get his point across, and he was trying to warn the girl that she was stepping over the line.  
“Why do you let her talk about Jon like that? Is he not your son?” Orrina didn’t care about the warning. “Do you not love him like you love Robb? Or Bran? Or Rickon? Even Sansa or Arya?” She couldn’t stop herself, even if this got her sent back to the Wall, back to Bear Island. She was tired of Jon being looked down on for something he didn’t choose to be. 

Her heart broke at the thought of Jon being the one who overheard this conversation. To hear Catelyn Stark yet again lower him to someone who would try to steal Winterfell from his own brother. She was angry for Jon and herself. Angry that their chance to be happy together was taken before they even had a chance. 

“Jon would never do that!” Suddenly Arya’s voice cut through the tension, appearing behind Orrina’s elbow. 

“Go to bed, Arya.” Lady Stark ground out, eyes locked on Orrina’s. 

The younger girl hesitated, looking between her parents and Orrina before turning tail and taking off. 

**ARYA**

The angry sounds of her mother’s voice and Orrina’s increasing one filled her ears as she took off down the hallway. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she could hear Orrina yelling now. Her father must be trying to calm them both down, but he was being drowned out by the heated shouting. 

Even though she knew it meant possibly getting her behind tanned, Arya didn’t go straight to her room like she was commanded to. She needed to find Jon and tell him what was happening. 

Like the rest of her siblings, Arya had been enjoying having Orrina Mormont around. It was nice to have another girl who enjoyed sword fighting as much as she did and wasn’t wrapped in stupid stories about knights like her sister was. 

She had taken a real liking to the older girl, especially after witnessing her skill on the training yard. She also liked that Orrina called her Arry sometimes and let her call her Orry. It was nice having special nicknames with someone, someone who didn’t call her Arya Horseface. 

Orrina wasn’t like those girls, the daughters of Lords who liked to bring them around every so often to prance in front of Robb in hopes they would get married. Granted, Arya didn’t really get to know them like she knew Orrina, but still. She liked her more. She was nice, and funny and she could throw her axe really far.

Originally, she thought Orrina might marry Robb. Arya had thought the Lord Commander was doing like all the other Lords did, and try to find a match with the heir of the North. But she quickly realized that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t much of a Lady and there was no way that her mother would let Robb marry someone like her, no matter what. Her Lady mother was a real stickler about that sort of thing. 

Then Arya thought maybe Orrina was being fostered to learn how to be a real lady like Sansa, and then she would marry Robb. But then she heard more about the Mormont family and she knew there was no way her mother would let Robb marry someone from a family where all the women can throw axes. 

Then she saw Orrina and Jon talking and it all started to make sense. Well as much sense as it could to her anyways. Once she even saw them holding hands and was going to say something about it, but Robb caught her staring and offered her a tart to buy her silence. 

Robb didn’t really need to though, Arya wasn’t going to tell anyone what she saw. Recently, Jon had been smiling more, and happier. He wasn’t so quiet and he actually had someone to talk too. Sometimes she felt bad that Jon spent his days alone. She was forced to do lessons with the stupid Septa and Sansa and the other girls. 

And Robb spent a lot of time with their father, learning how to be the future Lord of Winterfell. Very rarely Jon was allowed to join in, but more times than not, Jon was left alone. At least with Orrina there, Jon had someone to spend time with. And she noticed that he wasn’t so solemn all the time for it.

She knew Jon was different than the rest of her siblings, he was a bastard but she still didn’t understand why he couldn’t get married. He wasn’t a Stark so he couldn’t even claim Winterfell instead of Robb anyways. Her mother was being silly and she really wanted to tell her that, but she was ordered away and she knew better than to try her luck with both of her parents. 

All Arya knew at this moment, she really needed to find Jon. 

She was running quickly through the corridor, mousy brown flying behind her. Arya wasn’t really sure where Jon was, but she figured his room would be the best place to look for him. If not there, maybe the training yard or out in the glass gardens, she had found him spending more time there recently.

Running blindly, Arya didn’t see Jon until he had reached out, and grabbed her mind run.

“You shouldn’t be running down the halls like this Arya,” Jon had a good natured smile on his face, and she hated that she was going to ruin his mood. 

“It’s Orrina!” She bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. She was running so fast, she had winded herself. 

“What? What’s going on Arya?” As predicted, Jon’s face had lost the smile and was replaced with a look of concern. 

“Mother and father,” she panted. “They were arguing in the library, about you and Orry heard them!” 

“Wait, what?” 

“She started yelling at mother. Mother said you couldn’t get married before Robb and she got angry.” Arya finally caught her breath and looked up to see the pained expression on her brother’s face. 

“Go to your room, Arya. I’ll make sure she’s okay. Just go to your room.” Jon had that same quiet voice her father did, the quiet authority that compelled her to actually listen. Arya was observant but even she didn’t notice the pitch of emotion in his speech.

Arya nodded but threw her arms around Jon’s middle instead. She didn’t let go for a minute, feeling guilty. She shouldn’t have eavesdropped on her parents. She should have listened to Orrina and left before they overheard.

Now Orrina had screamed at her Lady mother, maybe even her father would send her home, back to Bear Island and Jon really wouldn’t be able to get married. Part of her hoped maybe after Robb got married, they would be allowed to get married. 

Maybe even stay in Winterfell and given a holdfast somewhere close where Arya could still visit them. Where Orrina would teach her how to fight without her mother disapproving. Jon would let her, maybe even teach her how to use a sword. 

But Arya saw all of that falling apart right in front of her. 

“Go, Arya.” Jon messed up her hair like he always did, but even that still somehow felt sad. 

She let go of him and watched Jon move down the hallway, on his way to the library where she hoped Orrina still was. He wasn’t running, not like Arya had to find him, but he was moving quickly. 

Arya stood there for a minute, before tucking tail and making her way up the stairs to her bedroom, hoping that tomorrow Orrina would still be there. 

**JON**

He hadn’t made it in time to talk to Orrina, just enough time to see his father speaking to his wife in hushed whispers. His father had met his eyes, concern crinkling at the corners of his grey Stark eyes. The same eyes Jon had. Ned gave a subtle shake of his head and Jon's heart sank. He knew this wouldn't be good. Before Lady Stark could look up and see him, the subject of their argument, Jon turned and immediately retreated back to his room. Ideas of seeing Orrina tonight, whispering in her ear while Arya studied her letters, making her laugh all erased from his mind as he wondered what the outcome of this outburst would be. 

The next morning, Orrina was not at breakfast. Sansa asked after her, Jon watched as Lady Stark stiffened but said nothing. His father simply said she was taking her meals in her room for the day. Arya sought him out from the other end of the table, worry written all over her face. Besides himself, Arya was the closest with her and he knew that she was worried that Orrina would be sent away from Winterfell. Part of him doubted it, but his father seemed to consider his wife over anyone else and if she had offended the matriarch of the Starks that much, he might not even get to see her leave. 

Luckily, Theon had promptly rode off for Winter Town after breaking their fast, a grin on his lips as he talked about some serving wench name Kyra. He left through the Hunters Gate and thankfully it left Jon and Robb alone. He wasn't sure if his temper could take Theon saying anything about Orrina when he wasn't sure if he would ever see her again. 

The brothers practiced that morning, but they could both tell that Jon’s heart wasn’t in it. Usually he was able to best Robb most days, but today, his brother was able to get in blow after blow. Neither of them noticed how Jon’s head shot up anytime he saw someone walking by, hoping that it was finally Orrina making her way to the yard as usual. 

“What happened?” Robb questioned his half-brother, some time later when it was clear that there wasn’t going to be any real training done that day. They had both stored their practice swords and sat together in the amory, listening to the sound of Mikken hammering and pounding away at steel. 

“I don’t know,” Jon shook his head, brushing his dark curls out of his eyes. In truth, he was having a hard time keeping the tears from springing to his eyes. He had always been emotional, but he was usually much better at keeping it contained. “Arya just told me that she shouted at your mother,” he swallowed thickly. 

Jon always felt like he had to walk a tight line between his siblings and their mother. They knew she had no love for Ned Stark’s bastard but he didn’t want to bad mouth her either to any of his siblings, no matter how she treated him. 

“Arya said they were arguing about me. About Orrina. Lady Stark won’t let us wed. She doesn’t want me to be married before you.” He looked away from his brother pointedly. He could never hold how Lady Stark treated him against his siblings, least of all Robb. But he couldn’t deny it didn’t hurt him. To know he was being denied happiness, to be with someone who genuinely wanted to be with him because of Robb’s status as the future Lord of Winterfell. 

“What?” Robb seemed shocked, he knew how his mother could be. But it didn’t matter if Jon married first, he had no claim to Winterfell. This was just cruelty for hating Jon. “I’ll talk to her Jon, there’s no reason,” Robb continued, concern lacing his words. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t be together.”

“No, you shouldn’t. It will only anger her more,” Jon sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what to do. In truth, he would have liked his brother to talk some sense into his mother, but he was afraid it would make her angry. Angry enough to send Orrina away for good. 

“Maybe you can wait a little while longer. I should be married before long, and then you can wed. I’ll demand it, the future Lord of Winterfell.” Robb nudged him in the sides, his weak attempt to lift the mood. 

“Maybe.” Jon offered his brother a weak smile before getting up and taking off for the Godswood. He appreciated the thought and the words, but nothing could ease the dread he felt in his heart. 

He would talk to the Old Gods, pray for a different outcome, a better one but he knew that as long as Catelyn Stark demanded it, he would never marry the girl from Bear Island. A girl with a last name, a poor family, but a loyal Northern family with their own lands and a former title. 

Instead Jon imagined what their life could have been like as his weary legs carried him to the weirwood tree. They would settle somewhere in the North, and his father would gift him land. Maybe the Gift, she would be close to her family, close to the Wall to visit her grandfather. Maybe even Moat Cailin, they could restore it to their former glory. They would be able to protect the North together. 

They would have dark haired children, some with his grey eyes, others with her eyes that looked like burnt sugar. They would all be darked haired, maybe a girl with his curls. They would name them after long dead Starks, and Mormonts. They would fill their halls with children, and be the parents they wished they had. 

He would be able to meet her Aunt Maege, or her many cousins she talked about. He would have liked to see Dacey wield a morningstar. They would host her family and he would invite Arya and Bran, knowing his siblings would love the warrior women of Bear Island as much as they loved Orrina. 

By the time he reached the weirwood tree, Jon’s head was swimming with “what ifs” and “could bes” as his eyes stung from the unshed tears. 

**ORRINA**

Truthfully, Orrina was shocked that she wasn’t shipped off to Bear Island first thing the next morning after she was escorting away from Catelyn Stark. Her wild temper had gotten the better of her, and she had unleashed a flood of anger on her foster mother. She couldn’t believe the woman talked so callously about Jon. That Ned Stark allowed her to, that he didn’t even try to defend his son. 

But more than anything, more than her anger at the injustice of Jon’s treatment, she was angry that the one thing that had lifted his spirits, had lifted hers, was being taken away from them. For no reason, other than that Lady Stark didn’t like bastards. That she feared if Jon had anyone in his corner that he would rise up and try to snatch Robb’s future from his hands. 

Before she knew what was happening, she was in the older woman’s face, yelling and carrying on. The logical part of her brain knew she was overstepping, overreacting. But Jon had confided so much in Orrina, she knew Jon’s pain, how he felt so out of place amongst his family. Orrina knew what that felt like, and she couldn’t imagine hearing someone speak of her like Jon was being discussed. 

She may have been weary at first, but Orrina had come to more than warm up to the idea of marrying Jon Snow. After weeks of sharing shy smiles, sneakily holding hands, and fervent whispers of their future to come, she had been looking forward to it. She didn’t expect a grand wedding, but one where her family could come, where her grandfather, maybe even Maestor Aemon could abandon their posts to watch Jon envelop her in his cloak and carry her away from the weirwood. She even envisioned a simple ivory gown, made by her new good sister’s hand. 

But now she knew. Now Orrina knew that would never happen. It was snatched away from her before it even had a chance to blossom outside of her daydreams. 

Lord Stark quarantined her to her chambers, had her meals brought up to her but Orrina couldn’t bring herself to eat. Instead she paced the room, wearing a path into the carpet. She could hear the castle bustling around her and her thoughts were consumed by Jon. She knew Arya would have told him what happened, maybe even shattered his daydreams of their future together. 

Orrina sat at her window, watching the people of Winterfell move about their day, like they didn’t know she had just had her heart crushed. She even caught sight of Robb’s Tully red hair walking alongside a familiar dark set of curls, no doubt on their way to the training yard, before losing sight of them. 

It was nearly time for dinner, when Orrina decided she wouldn’t be locked up inside her room like some maiden in distress. She didn’t gain her reputation for being half Wildling for her willingness to cooperate with authority or listen to rules. She was going to find Jon, and they would make their own future, with or without the Starks approval. 

Luckily since it was near time for dinner, the servants of Winterfell were in full swing preparing and not paying her any mind. Foolishly Ned Stark thought Orrina would do the honorable thing, the right thing and listen to him and posted no one outside her doors to keep her inside. So she pulled on her heavy black cloak and closed the door quietly behind her. 

There was no way to confirm, but Orrina felt in her heart that Jon would be in the Godswood. They had spent time there together, sure that no one would stumble upon them like when they met in the gardens or in the library. The woods was where she showed him how far she could throw her axe and shrieked in laughter when he tried over and over to make it stick into a far off tree. 

The Godswood is where they sat under the blood red leaves of the weirwood tree, and talked about their mothers. Where Jon told her that he didn’t even know his mother’s name, or what she looked like. It’s where Orrina told her the few things she knew about hers. Where she refused to speak Jorah Mormont’s name out loud but happily discussed all other things Mormont. 

She pulled her hood over her head as soon as she hit the cold air, and took off for the Godswood, nothing would get in her way.

As predicted, under the weirwood is exactly where she found Jon. Face in his hands as he sat, leaves making a new home in the snarls of his brown hair. 

“Jon!” Orrina cried out, unable to even take another moment of not speaking to him. Her feet carried to him quickly and before he could register that she had broken out of her room, her arms were around him. It had only been a few hours, not even a full day since she saw him last, but it had been agonizing all the same. 

“What are you doing here?” Jon murmured against the hood of her cloak, his arms tightening around her. 

“I couldn’t stay in there any longer. I’m not going to let your father or his wife tell me what to do.” There was that fierceness in her voice, something Jon admired about her. She yanked off her hood, and pulled back, worry all over her face. 

His eyes were red, and although his face was dry, she could tell he had been crying. Not unlike herself last night when she tried to sleep. 

“I had to be with you,” she finished simply, watching the tension melt away from his eyes. They were their usual stormy grey, but they looked even more conflicted than usual. 

“You shouldn’t. They will send you back to Bear Island.” Jon shook his head, making a move to pull away from her.  
“They will have to drag me out of Winterfell, kicking and screaming,” Orrina grabbed his elbow, refusing to let go. “I don’t care what she says Jon. We can leave together. We can go to Bear Island together. We can get married there. My Aunt Maege will welcome us.”

She knew she sounded desperate, pleading in her words to him, but Orrina knew now, knew that she loved him and she wouldn’t let anyone try to separate them. 

“We can’t do that. My father-”

“I don’t care what your father says. If we marry under the Old Gods, they can’t do anything about it. Your father may rule the North, but he doesn’t rule the will of the Gods.” 

Jon said nothing, a sad smile forming on his lips. She was something else, his Lady Orrina. Her temper was quick and hot, and she always had a quip on the tip of her tongue. She had an answer for everything, even if that answer was to say fuck everything and do whatever she wanted. 

He admired that much about her. 

“Please Jon,” Orrina was pleading this time. He let so much of who he was be defined by others, she just wanted him to do something for himself for once. Something that would make them both happy, something they both wanted. Not something that would make his father proud, or even make Lady Catelyn tolerate him. “I love you.”

A heavy silence passed between them, eyes locked on each other. Later they wouldn’t remember who moved first, only remembering the feeling of being pulled together. 

Blood red leaves fell around them as Orrina embraced Jon, relishing in the feeling of his lips against hers. It was better than she imagined, hours after their secret meetings. Neither of them knew what they were doing, but it didn’t matter. His lips were soft, and gentle against her desperate mouth, keeping her from fully consuming them both. 

Her fingers curled into his thick furred cloak, holding him tight against her. She could his dark eyelashes flutter over her cheeks, all sounds of the woods lost in their breathing, lost in each other. 

Orrina couldn’t say how long they stayed like that, how long she lost herself in Jon Snow’s lips, but eventually he pulled away from her. His eyes were unusually tender, affectionate as he held her face between his palms and told her that he loved her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one is allowed to be mad at me!! I told you there was angst! 
> 
> So there you have it. This is another chapter I've imagining several hundred different ways since I thought of this story. I knew that I wanted there a betrothal, but I also know that Westeros isn't always nice to bastards, and Jon is one of those bastards. Maybe him and Orrina will run away together, maybe not! You'll soon find out! Also total credit to Amarsh55 for the Moat Cailin comment which makes me want to go FULL AU on this story. 
> 
> Next chapter will be caught up to in story timeline of AGOT. I always planned about 10 chapters pre-AGOT so next chapter will see the arrival of the royal family. Orrina has been in Winterfell for roughly a year or less at this point. I wish I could write every mundane detail of their their days and very convo Jon and Orrina have had cos I personally live for that, but I know it's not very exciting to read. 
> 
> I got a little stuck with this chapter. I knew I wanted an Arya POV but I was struggling with the rest. I don't like to head hop and switch POVs so much, especially when each POV isn't super long but it felt right here. But sorry if you aren't a fan of that. I was also conflicted on the end and if they should confess their love for each other. Despite their feelings, this is still a slow burn relationship wise. Plus they are both lonely, hormonal teenagers so I decided it was getting in the end.
> 
> Please tell me how you are feeling about this chapter in the comments below! I know I say it every update, but they seriously make my DAY and motivate my muse. So please let me know what you loved, what you hated and what you think is coming next!


	9. Oh and These Colors Fade for You

**ORRINA**

There had been no time to plan their grand getaway to Bear Island. No time to write her Aunt, urging her allow her and Jon return to her home, to wed, to live their life together. They had spent a long while in the Godswood, sheltered underneath the white branches of the weirwood tree, sheltered in each other's embrace, but time came for them as it always did and too soon, they had to say good bye. Orrina back to her chambers, surely someone had noticed she was gone, and Jon back before someone saw them together and informed the Lady of Winterfell. Jon never promised he would run away with her, but Orrina knew in her heart that she could convince him. 

The next morning, Lord Stark permitted her to come to break her fast with the rest of the family with a stern look and a promise of no further outbursts. She had come to admire Ned Stark a great deal in the near year she had spent under his roof. She admired the way he never needed to raise his voice, and he never looked down on anyone. He took the time to get to know those who lived under his roof and treated them accordingly. She had a hard time letting go of her grudge of Theon Greyjoy and the fact that Ned defended him. And an even harder time letting go that he allowed his wife to treat his son with such contempt. However, she did see how much Ned himself loved Jon.

Still, her foster father had a quiet strength about him. Commanding, but not overbearing. Personable, and kind but still a Lord in every way. Orrina had heard things about his brother, the original heir to Winterfell, Brandon Stark. Benjen had told her stories of his elder, now dead brother, and his wolf's blood. The same wolf's blood his dead sister had. That a lot of dead Starks had. Wild, and un-tameable he called those two. She saw none of that in Lord Eddard.

But she did see hints of it in his children. She saw the way Jon's temper flared, maybe if he wasn't born with the curse of being a bastard, he would be able to express himself more freely. Arya was obvious, with her determination and wild tantrums when she was denied. A stubborn thing, Orrina knew those who would have said the same of her. Who said the same of Ned Stark's dead sister, who her own cousin was named after.

Rightfully so, Lyanna Mormont was turning out to be just as hard headed as the rest of her family.

Orrina dressed herself in one of her finer dresses, another old one of Lady Stark, fitted and modified by her eldest daughter. Where Orrina bonded with Arya over sword fighting, and horse racing, she bonded with Sansa over books and stories while the younger girl did her alterations. She had such an eye for detail and for the finer things. Another quality Orrina could admire but never possess. She would wear Sansa's pretty creations, fawn over them, show them off to the people who cared about that sort of thing, but she would still prefer her mail and breeches.

She was already on thin ice with Catelyn though, so she donned a burgundy dress, a deep red, almost the color of dried blood. As usual, she kept her arms covered, but these dress cut more off of her shoulders than any of her other ones. She wasn't good at braiding, only successfully able to pull off one thick braid down her back, not able to replicate the intricate braids the Northern ladies liked to wear. Instead she let her hair flow freely down her back, untamed.

Lord and Lady Stark were already seated at the table, flanked by Sansa, Bran and Rickon. It seemed she wouldn't the last to arrive for their meal after all. Both Sansa and Bran stood excitedly when she entered, questioning why they didn't see her the day before. She had never been particularly good at lying, except when it really mattered so Orrina tried to smooth over their curiosities as best she could while Lady Stark kept a watchful eye on them.

Orrina thought it best she sit further away from the matriarch of the Stark's today.

She fought the urge to rush to Jon when he entered, head bowed low. She wanted to move seats, from between Bran and Sansa to Jon's side, but she felt the eyes of her foster parents on her and instead turned her eyes quickly away from Jon. She would give them no reason to send her away quite yet, no reason to suspect she had snuck out to see Jon.

The rest of the family soon joined, and they wasted no time tucking into their food. The breakfast was a quiet one, especially with the likes of Arya and Sansa seated next to each other. Usually sisterly squabbles broke out and either Ned or Catelyn had to intervene. The only sound was the occasional sniffle or grunt, while their silverware clinked together. She didn't know why there was such a heavy mood over them all today, but she hoped it wasn't just due to her and Jon.

"We received word from King's Landing. King Robert and his family are journeying North to visit." Ned broke the quiet tension after dabbing his face with a cloth napkin.

Although they had eaten quietly, the energy of the family shifted and now everyone was buzzing excitedly. Orrina spared a quick glance at Jon, who looked neither thrilled, excited or confused like his siblings. He merely blinked in his father's direction, grey eyes giving away nothing.

However Orrina couldn't have been happier. The Royal family. It would prove the perfect distraction. She hated to leave Winterfell the way she was planning, sneaking off into the night, Jon riding fiercely at her side, long hours in the saddle in hopes to get to Bear Island as fast as possible. Truthfully, she didn't want to leave Winterfell at all. She wanted to marry Jon, with his family as witness and when they finally left as husband and wife, she would be able to kiss his sisters good bye, hug Bran and Robb tightly, and toss little Rickon in the air another time before leaving.

Instead her mind filled of ways to make their escape, to run before Lady Stark could stop them. To wed before Ned could forbid them. To find comfort in her family, to find Jon comfort in her family. She loved Winterfell, but more than ever she longed for the Island. For blistery mornings, and crisp ocean air. To wake up burrowed next to Jon in her old room, buried under thick furs, the smell of salt water creeping through her windows.

To see Alysane tease Jon mercilessly, but still greet him with a loud kiss on the cheek as she did with everyone else. She wanted him to meet Lyanna, named after his aunt and see how she reminded them of Arya. Dacey would challenge him to a spar, and although she knew her cousin would win, she would never rub it in Jon's face. Lyra and Jorelle would team up and interrogate him about every hot blooded boy south of Bear Island, curious if Robb Stark had an intended yet. Her Aunt Maege would tell him he was too skinny, that he was a Bear now, and he needed to look the part.

Orrina missed her family and she wanted Jon to find the same comfort in them that she always did.

Even if that meant stealing away in the middle of the night to get there.

The Stark siblings, as well as Theon gossiped about the royal family over the rest of their breakfast. Sansa sighed prettily at the thought of crown prince, Joffrey. Arya asked if she was taller than the Imp. Bran gushed about famed Kingsguard and Kingslayer, Jamie Lannister and if they would see his skill with steel. Only Jon and Orrina did not join in the conversation, both too caught up in their own thoughts to have any to spar about King Robert or his company.

Preparations began right away, the King was due in a fortnight, already starting his journey before letting his old friend know that he was on his way. Ned and Catelyn swept their children up in the preparations, and it seemed they were determined to keep Orrina and Jon apart as well. Everyday leading up the King's arrival, Orrina was pulled into some new task. If she wasn't, Jon was. Very rarely when they weren't helping the garrison prepare for the royal family, Sansa rarely left Orrina's side, no doubt at her mother's urging.

Truthfully, she didn't mind the girls presence, she liked Sansa. She was sweet, naïve, but kind hearted and gentle. She would never last a day on Bear Island, but she possessed a Lady's strength. Not everyone had to as fearless and hard as the Mormont women, Orrina had to remind herself when she grew frustrated with her constant supervision. Sometimes she wished she could possess Sansa's gentle nature, ability to mind her own, and her soft heart.

All she wanted was to see Jon. To feel his lips against hers again. To feel the beat of his heart against hers. She dreamed of running her fingers through his dark curls, to hear him say he loved her again with a soft kiss to her temple. Every night she was tempted to sneak from her bed, to find Jon in the moonlight, just to take his hand. It had been too long since they had a moment alone. Anytime spent together was overly formal, afraid that someone would overhear them.

It was the longest two weeks of Orrina's life.

She almost cried tears of relief when word came of King Robert's host approaching. Soon both Ned and Cat would be preoccupied by the King and the Queen. Sansa would be fawning over the prince, the rest of the Stark children would entertain the little princess and prince and she could find her solace in Jon Snow. He would be reluctant to leave, she knew that much but unlike sweet Sansa, Orrina was headstrong and stubborn. Now that she knew his true feelings, she couldn't allow him to waste away.

Orrina watched Ned share words with his bastard son, a fatherly hand on his shoulder before sending him away. He couldn't be presented with his siblings. Instead he came to stand at Orrina's side, head down, eyes averted. Soon Theon Greyjoy joined them as well, a moody look on his face. Clearly the young ward had not been pleased he could not stand alongside the Stark's like he so desperately wished. A ward, a hostage, and a bastard. A sorry lot they were. 

She was tempted to reach for Jon's hand while they wanted. Her heart ached for him, not only because she missed him, but because he belonged to stand alongside his siblings. He deserved to have Ned boast what a good swordsman he's become, how he could even best Robb. Instead, he was pushed to the side, hidden away like his very birth would offend the King and his consorts. 

King Robert rode into Winterfell, tall and fat followed by his Kingsguard. Jaimie Lannister's golden hair gleamed in the rare Northern sun, as did the crown Prince Joffrey's. Orrina watched as Robert dropped from his horse, sure the ground had shook under his weight and crushed Ned Stark in a brotherly hug. If it wasn't Ned Stark kneeling into the snow to kiss Queen Cersei's hand, Orrina would think this was all a very well oiled mummer's farce, but if she learned anything during her time under his care, Ned was a honest man. 

The little prince and princess were introduced to the Stark family while Orrina stood to the side shuffling uncomfortably with Theon and Jon next to her. The sooner this was over, the better. She could seize her moment to talk with Jon and then hide in her room for the rest of the evening if she had too. The theatrics of this whole affair was too much for her. It was reminding her of all the singers, and performers her father spent their money to try and please his Hightower wife. 

Frivolous, is what her grandfather called it. The Stark's may have been more modest but they went all out for the royal family and it turned her stomach. 

Lord Stark was about to take the King down into the crypts despite his pretty wife's pleas, when Orrina looked up and locked eyes with Robert Baratheon. The king stilled for a moment before saying something to Ned, who didn't look pleased. He gave his wife a glance before leading the King over their sad little band. 

"You didn't tell me you were keeping beautiful girls as wards now, Ned." Robert laughed heartily, not sparing a glance for Theon Greyjoy. "I see your bastard boy is growing to look more and more like you as the days pass. Little left of his mother in him, huh?" The king clapped Jon on the back roughly, causing him to stumble slightly. But she thought Jon was more shocked that he was being acknowledged at all, truth be told. 

"You already know Jon, and Balon Greyjoy's boy, Theon." Ned introduced them in his usual quiet voice, sounding more on edge than usual. "This is Lady Orrina, granddaughter of Lord Commander Mormont."

"Daughter of slaver and craven Jorah Mormont," Orrina cut in, dropping into the most delicate and lady like curtsy she could manage, with the widest grin on her face, she so did love reminding people of her father's crimes. Luckily Sansa was not only kind and pretty but a good teacher, and Orrina did her proud. 

Robert said nothing but let out a large belly laugh and clapped Jon on the shoulder again. 

"She reminds me of Lyanna, Ned. With that mouth of hers." 

"You never knew Lyanna as well as I did, your grace. You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath." Ned's ash grey eyes looked to Jon, sad and distant. 

"My youngest cousin is named after her. I hope we both do her memory proud, Your Grace." Orrina bowed her head again, the North made hard strong women, and though she may envy other's tact and grace, she was proud of who she was. 

King Robert fixed her with a strange look, his mouth twitching under this thick beard but he bid them good bye and followed Lord Eddard to the crypts to speak to the real Lyanna. 

~~

Unfortunately for Orrina, she still did not get to speak with Jon until it was time for the King's welcoming feast. Her spirits however brightened when she saw a familiar black cloak make it's way into the gates of Winterfell, long after the Royal host. Benjen Stark had come on her grandfather's request. More men, more supplies were needed and an audience with the King was something the Watch was rarely afforded. 

Benjen looked the same as he did when she left for her journey south, still long faced and metallic eyed. The look of the Stark's, one she knew now. She wasn't expecting to see any man of the Watch, especially not the First Ranger, but Orrina threw her arms around Benjen Stark all the same. He rumpled her hair, and gave her a friendly pat on her shoulder before Orrina started to interrogating him about the happenings of the Watch. He didn't give her much detail, just like her grandfather hadn't but as always she could read between the lines. 

She lived long enough at the Wall, to know that threat of wildlings and Mance Rayder were coming to a head. But they tried to spar her the news, she was not a man of the Watch, nor was she a man at all. A girl, they still treated her like a child. It was maddening. But Benjen told her about the few new recruits that had come North, that her grandfather's crow still bleated for corn at every passing moment, that Hobb's quality in food had gone down since she left. She appreciated any news he was willing to spare so she took it with a smile. 

There was more that he wasn't telling her, Orrina thought of the Watch deserter that Lord Stark had beheaded personally and tried to remember what Bran had told her. She was forbidden from going, but Bran came back with tall tales of White Walkers and the Others. More importantly, he came back with a direwolf and one for each of his siblings. None of them were really interested in telling her what happened with the man of the Watch when they were distracted by their new pups. 

Too soon, Benjen had to leave her, he had business with his brother and the King but he promised he would sit with her at the feast and tell her the things she had missed while she had been away. 

The rest of the Stark's were busy entertaining the royal family, so Orrina was left to her own. She decided she would go practice with the musicians that Lord Stark had hired for the feasts entertainment. Perhaps it was part of the ploy to keep her away from Jon, but Cat had asked her specifically if she would see to the music, perhaps even sing a song or two, they all remembered her sweet voice when she sang for her grandfather and they were sure the King would be pleased to hear her sing as well. 

She had wanted to refuse, she rarely sang for strangers, and the biggest crowd she ever sang for was the Night Watch's meager supply of men. But she didn't want to give cause to send her away, and Catelyn had hugged her tightly when she agreed. She was good woman, Lady Stark, it was hard to stay hateful of her, it only resurfaced when she saw her interact with Jon. 

After a while, Orrina retired back to her room, tired already from the day's events. It had been years since she saw something as grand as this. It was what her father tried to replicate everyday for his young, Southron wife, giving no heed to his family's dwindling money. Musicians, mummers, fools, pretty jewelry, slippery silks, nothing was off limits to try and keep Lynesse Hightower happy in the cold, harsh North. 

She was able to squeeze in a quick kip, before changing for the feast. She changed into a gown reflecting her house colors. It was another's gown, Lyanna's in fact, again modified to her liking. The dress was fully black, deep and inky. It was one the few dresses she now owned without full sleeves, only a band around her shoulders. Green intricate, lace had been layered over it her skirts, the corset bodice had small hand stitched designs, in the same matching green.

Green as vibrant as the trees in the woods of Bear Island. Black as the fur of a bear. _Here we stand,_ Orrina thought to herself as she smoothed her skirts, fingers moving over the fine lace that her family wouldn't splurge on, even if they could afford it. Stubbornness was their House trait, it was reflected in their words and they carried themselves. She would remember this when she was able to talk to Jon. 

It was time to leave for the grand meal, and had she not been looking down over her skirts, she would have seen the slip of parchment sneakily pressed under her door. It had been folded several times, and when she opened it, it was a sloppy drawing of Ghost, Jon's direwolf. He wrote nothing else, just signed it "yours" with his initials. Since they weren't able to speak to each other the last fortnight, they had taken to writing notes to each other, slipping them under each other's doors when no one was around. She kept all of them, especially the one written in Jon's own hand saying he loved her. She refolded the parchment and tucked it into her bodice. She would carry it with her tonight, she had a feeling she would need it. 

Jon wasn't allowed to sit with the family during the meal, something Orrina resented heavily. Even more so, Lord and Lady Stark insisted her and Greyjoy forget their family's feud for one evening as Theon would be escorting her down to the Great Hall. It made sense that the two wards would go together, but Orrina didn't like it all the same. Neither did Theon, judging by the sour look on his face when she met him down the hallway. She told the Stark's that she would rather not attend at all, to sit back with Jon and the other squires before letting Theon touch her. 

Her request was ignored. 

If Theon said anything to her, Orrina didn't hear him. His cruel japes and snide comments were ignored, her thoughts elsewhere. It wasn't until they were going through the doors of the Great Hall did Theon take her arm, although she did try to wrench it back. 

"Will you behave normally for even just a moment?" Theon hissed at her, as his grip tightened. 

"If you don't let go of me, squid, you will pull back a stump," Orrina threatened her tone low, a fake smile still on her face. She may have been dining with the Royal family and the famous Kingsguard but she still wore her knife concealed in her boot and if she was pushed to stabbing Theon Greyjoy at the dinner, she would have no greater joy. 

Exasperated, Theon released her, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something under his breath. Orrina was prepared to reply but her eyes caught Jon, sitting in the back, back with the squires. It was a cruel world for bastards, and she so desperately wanted to reach out and take his hand. Instead she was pushed further into the Hall, seated at the high table with the royal children and the Stark's. 

Dinner was a long, dull affair. Ned Stark allowed her one cup of wine, but she wished she could have more to get through this evening. The King talked loudly, ate loudly, groped serving girls loudly. His wife was as cold as the Wall, and their children were spoiled and dull. Sweet, but boring. Luckily she was able to excuse herself after a while to go sing with the musicians. 

The Hall was still noisy from the celebrations, so she hoped that not many people would pay her mind. Requests for the usual party songs, The Bear and the Maiden Fair was always a popular one. She didn’t want to sing the same tired songs that she always heard. She caught the briefest glimpse of Jon, and closed her eyes before breaking into song.

_There's something tragic about you  
Something so magic about you  
Don't you agree?_

_There's something lonesome about you  
Something so wholesome about you  
Get closer to me_

_No tired sigh, no rolling eyes, no irony  
No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me_

_Honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago  
Idealism sits prison, chivalry fell on it's sword  
Innocence died screaming, honey ask me I should know  
I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door_

_Babe, there's something wretched about this  
Something so precious about this  
Oh what a sin_

_To the strand a picnic plan for you and me  
A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree_

_Honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago  
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on it's sword  
Innocents died screaming, honey ask me I should know  
I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door_

_Honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago  
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on it's sword  
Innocence died screaming, honey ask me I should know  
I slithered here from Eden just to hide outside your door_

When she finished, the Great Hall still buzzed with activity, but most eyes were turned to her, including those of the Royal family. Lady Cat looked pleased that she had gone through with it, and Arya beamed at her brightly. A rowdy round of applause broke out and she felt herself flush deeply. Orrina had never sang for so many people, but there was a rush in it. Not the same as winning a spar, but a rush all the same. 

At the urging of the other musicians, she broke into an upbeat rendition of The Bear and the Maiden Fair, if anyone should sing it, it should be a Bear from House Mormont. Near the end of the song, she looked up in time to see Jon, red faced and upset, storm from the Hall, his white little direwolf nipping at his heels. 

She was able to convince one of the other singers to take her place before following Jon out, with the excuse of needing some air. People stopped her and complimented her on her way out, delaying her from getting to Jon. By the time the cold air hit her lungs, she saw Tyrion Lannister waddling away from Jon. 

“Jon!” She cried out his name and ran to him, not caring anymore about who saw them. She missed him, she hadn’t had a moment alone with him in days and wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him, so she did. Jon stood there stiffly while Ghost danced around their feet. He smelled like wine, and she knew Ned’s allowance of only one cup didn’t seem to apply to the table of squires he sat with.  
“What’s wrong?” Orrina pulled away, her face knit in confusion. He didn’t try to hug her back, and there was a strange look on his face. “Jon, what is it?” She urged him again when he didn’t respond. 

“I’m joining the Night’s Watch, I’m going to take the Black.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, credit for the song in chapter is the wonderful, beautiful, talented Hozier. Another huge inspo for this story!
> 
> This chapter has turned a bit into a monster, length wise. I also felt this chapter needed to be told solely from Orrina's POV as well. I might try to squeeze in a Robb POV next chapter just because I love him so much, but we will see. Originally I was planning on including everything in one chapter, but I had to split it up just since it spiraled a bit! I was also going to include a scene where they found their direwolves, but I really didn't think Orrina fit in there or would have been allowed to attend a beheading of a man in the Watch.
> 
> Speaking of the Watch, NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO BE UPSET WITH ME! Well, obviously you are, haha. I'm quite upset myself, I've always been interested in writing total AUs. However it didn't fit with my story line where I see Orrina and Jon ending up. Unfortunately, I think Jon going to the Watch is really important to his character arc, and where I see him in the future. It breaks my heart, but it is the reason I have this story tagged as a slow burn. 
> 
> However, don't fret, I will not be separating these two! I'll let you wait for the next chapter to see what that really means, but this doesn't mean 30+ chapters where they don't interact or anything. Their stories/arcs are very much tied together. As always, please let me know what you think in the comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	10. Scarcely can Speak for my Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this is where the "eventual smut" tag comes in, except it's not so eventual anymore.

**JON**

_”You don’t miss much, do you, Jon? We could use a man like you on the Wall.”_

His uncle’s words were ringing in his ears, while all the other noise around him faded. Orrina even told him, no one cared about bastards at the Wall, bastards could rise up, be officers of the Night Watch. Benjen immediately tried to take it back, but his words stuck with Jon. His uncle may have meant years from now, but as Jon drank and watched Orrina up at the high table, he thought more of it. 

She looked beautiful in her gown, even more so on Theon Greyjoy’s arm. He was pleased that she didn’t look happy about it and even pulled away from him, but she looked like she belonged. Orrina didn’t look out of place even amongst the royal family. Her brown hair was shiny and gleamed in the flickering candle light. Her dress hugged her tightly and stood out against her pale Northern skin. To Jon, Orrina was the most radiant, beautiful woman amongst them. 

And she wanted him, to marry him, the Bastard of Winterfell. 

At first the thought filled him with pride, made him sit straighter at his table at the back of the Great Hall. The other boys bragged who they squired for, fights they’ve won, but they didn’t know the love he had. They didn’t know what it felt like to hold Orrina Mormont in their arms and hear her whisper that she loved him. 

But the more the wine flowed, and the more cups he threw back, Jon found himself slumping over and the dread creep in. Could he really marry someone like her? Someone fierce, and strong, and beautiful, did she deserve to be tied down to Ned Stark’s bastard? Orrina may not think it, but she could have married anyone at that feast. She could be a great Lord’s wife, and bear him children, she would be a good Lady. She would treat everyone fairly, and be friends to everyone. Her children could grow to be as strong as her, and with the right family name, it would make all the difference. 

He thought of his daydreams, of their own children. What could he give them? What could he give her? Nothing but the reputation of the girl who married Ned Stark’s bastard. He had no home for them. He couldn’t provide for her, let alone for any children they would have. And how would Lady Stark react? How would they be treated? He couldn’t put his future children through that. To have people look down on them because of their birth, to hold something against them they had no control over. 

No, his uncle’s words rang clear to him as soon as he said them. He could be someone at the Wall. The Stark’s were friends of the Watch, it was a noble choice. Many Stark’s, outside of Benjen, had served the Watch, even became Lord Commanders. It would ease Lady Catelyn’s thoughts, he would have no wife, no children to come steal Robb’s claim. Orrina would hate him, he knew, but she would get over it. His father would keep his word to the Old Bear, he’d find someone else for her. She would move on, be a good wife, a good mother, to someone who deserved her. Someone who could give her a home, a name, a life. 

He was starting to get sick from the wine, but kept drinking anyways. Ghost sat at his feet, the only one of his siblings that was allowed to be there. His direwolf licked his fingers as Jon drained another cup. He felt like he was going to throw up, and then Orrina Mormont stood up and broke into song. 

Her voice gripped his heart, and churned his stomach. He felt that familiar stirring in his chest, that only happened when he looked at her. Ghost let out a pathetic whine, clearly picking up on his distress. Jon could see the way other men looked at her, the squires he sat with, watched her with rapt attention, even the King himself stopped shouting long enough for her to finish her song. 

Anger, shame, guilt, admiration all swirled in his gut, mixing with the wine and Jon knew he had to escape. He couldn’t stand to see this anymore, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. His own burned, threatening with tears to fall onto his flushed cheeks. He watched her, _his girl_ , sway to the music, as other’s merrily joined in on The Bear and the Maiden Fair. He was hers, but he was realizing she could never be his. He couldn’t allow her to throw her life away. 

Abruptly, Jon stood from the table, knocking into a serving girl as the tears started to freely fall. He needed to get out, get away from this, out into the cold and out of the heavy air of the Great Hall that threatened to suffocate him. He felt his dinner, his wine and the emotional turmoil bubble in his stomach, Jon was doing all that he could to hold it down. 

That’s how the Imp, Tyrion Lannister found Jon Snow, doubled over, breathing in heavy breaths, trying not to vomit, his cheeks wet. In his drunken haze, he spoke with the Imp. His words didn’t make sense at the moment, ringing hollow in his ears, but he would remember them later. He would find comfort in them. But not now. 

Not when Orrina found him and stole his breath away. Not when she ran to him, eyes full of relief and hugged him close. It had been too long since he was alone with her, only able to share side glances and secret notes slipped under doors. He should have hugged her back, should have swept her off her feet, and kissed her deeply. He should have done it all, one last time before he told her. Before she would hate him. 

Jon was vaguely aware that she was speaking to him, his emotions were whirling around in his head, thundering in his ears. He wasn’t sure which was louder, that or erratic beating of his heart. 

“I’m joining the Night’s Watch, I’m going to take the Black.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

Part of him wanted to take them back as soon as they passed his lips, it made his decision real. He couldn’t take back the hurt in those burnt sugar eyes, but he couldn’t falter now. This was all he had to offer, all he could do. She had to know that she was doing it for her as well. 

He didn’t have time to explain to her, not before Orrina reached out and struck him. It wasn’t a hard slap, but it was enough to sober him a little. He wasn’t sure if it was the tears freezing to his cheeks that stung more or the slap. 

“Why, why would you do that Jon?” Her voice broke, and the same hand that just hit him gripped him by the front of his shirt. “There’s nothing for you there. The only men who man the Wall now are criminals, thieves and rapists. You are better than that.” Orrina urged him, fingers curling into him tightly. 

“No, I’m not!” Jon ripped away from her, knowing that he should lower his voice. The sounds of the feast were enough to cover their argument but he shouldn’t yell at her, she didn’t deserve it. But he needed her to understand. “You may not care about me being a bastard, but everyone else does!” He turned away from Orrina, not wanting to see the look on her face. 

“It’s all anyone cares about. If we got married, it’s all anyone would say about you. We would have nowhere to go, Lady Catelyn will hate our children like she hates me. Everyone thinks I’m just biding my time until I can make my claim against Robb.” 

The alcohol flowed through him, this was the first time he had ever drunk this much, and he was feeling it. He found himself unable to stop yelling, his temper flaring, threatening to engulf them both. 

“You can act like you understand, but you don’t!” Jon still couldn’t bring himself to look at her, raking his fingers through his curls, desperate to make her understand. Desperate to make her realize she deserved better. “You are a trueborn, a daughter of Lord, no matter his crimes. You know your mother, and your whole family loves you! All I have is the Watch! It’s the only thing I can do.”

Orrina could bring up her father’s crimes all she wanted, she could remind every person she met of what her father did, but it didn’t make her understand. It didn’t take away her highborn status. She couldn’t understand what Jon felt, no matter how much he loved her and he could see them having a happy marriage, it didn’t change who he was, and that he would always think she deserved more. 

Jon finally turned to face her, expecting to see her shake with anger, expecting her to hit him again, maybe shove him and scream at him. He welcomed her anger, he deserved it. For letting them both think that they could have a life together. For leading them both to believe that they could overcome his bastardy. He should have stayed away from her. His father and his wife were keeping them away from each other for a reason, Jon should have realized this. They were both just hurting each other by trying to hold onto this fantasy. 

But instead of her anger, Jon was faced with her tears. Orrina didn’t shake with anger, but with sobs. An ugly sound escaped from her lips and Jon felt it pierce his heart. He had to do this. He had to let her go, even if it killed him. He would go to the Night’s Watch, he would be ranger like his Uncle Benjen. Jeor Mormont would be his brother, and he could keep an eye on him for her. Orrina would like that, she worried for him. He could do that for her. He couldn’t be her husband, but he could look after her family. 

“You are so stupid, Jon Snow.” Orrina choked out, furiously wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “You have no idea what the Watch is, or what you are giving up.” She sniffled, roughly pushing the long dark hair Jon loved so much, out of her face. She was still crying, but there was a ferocious look in her eye. If it wasn’t for her fine gown, she would look as feral and deadly as their direwolves. “I’m not letting you go. I won’t let you freeze to death at the Wall because of your skewed sense of honor.” 

Jon knew there were no words to make her understand, to heal the hurt that they were both feeling. And truthfully, there was no point now. 

“You should go back inside now, Orrina.” Jon said quietly, quickly swiping at his own eyes. He couldn’t let her see him cry, he had to be strong enough to do this, for the both of them. 

“This isn’t over Jon,” Orrina grabbed him again, he could feel the desperation rolling off of her. “I love you, and I’m not letting you do this.” He could taste the saltiness of her tears on his lips. For the last two weeks, he had dreamed of kissing her again. He could feel himself giving in, his hands instinctively moving to her waist before he stopped himself. 

“Go Lady Orrina,” Jon forced the formality back into his voice, moving his arms back to his sides. 

She held him for a moment longer, her tears leaving a stain on his shirt before turning back and running back into the castle. Leaving Jon standing there alone, broken hearted of his own accord, in the dark. Ghost started howling after Orrina left, a pathetic puppy howl, but a howl all the same. His brothers and sisters heard him, off in the kennels and joined in. The sound of their howls, and Orrina’s sobs rang in his ears watching her retreat. 

**ORRINA**

She feigned illness the next morning to avoid being summoned to breakfast. Luckily for her, her eyes were red and swollen from crying all night, her throat burned raw and no one questioned if she was really sick or not. Orrina couldn’t bring herself to dress, to drag herself down to the hall again, to force food down her throat, to see Jon’s face so soon again. She wanted to stay in her room and rage and cry. After running away from Jon, Orrina didn’t go back to the feast, she rushed to her room, ripping her dress off of her body. She pulled the blankets from her bed, flinging them across the room. She upended her trunk of clothes, and knocked over everything off her bedside table. 

Her screams couldn’t be heard over the sound of the musicians, and she continued to rage until she collapsed in a half naked heap onto her floor, surrounded by her belongings. 

This was something she hadn’t felt before. It was fury, unbearable sadness, hopelessness, and heartbreak rolled into one. Jon was trying to leave her, just like her father left, like her grandfather left. It was becoming a very overwhelming theme in her life, and she had hoped that when the Old Bear left, it would be the last time she was being left behind somewhere. 

For the better half of the morning, Orrina laid in bed, turning away the food she was sure Lady Cat had sent to her. She laid under her blankets, curled into a ball, hoping the weight of her blankets would just suffocate her. Jon had broken her heart, and she had no idea why. 

Maybe he was right, maybe she would never understand what it was like to be a bastard. But Orrina still didn’t think it mattered. Nothing anyone could say to her would change how she felt about Jon. She didn’t care if other people would look down on her, it didn’t matter to her and she couldn’t understand why Jon didn’t see that. She could scream until she was blue in the face, and he would never let go of being a bastard. She didn’t know how to make him realize it didn’t matter. 

They didn’t need anyone else but each other. They could go on their own, find their own way, make their own path. She was determined to make Jon realize. He didn’t need to go to the Watch, they could be together on their own terms. Nothing else mattered, just each other. 

After spending most of the day in fetal position, Orrina finally pushed her weary body out of bed. She had to find Benjen. He could convince Jon not to go. He would talk to Ned, forbid it. She would ask him to tell her grandfather to refuse Jon. She had to do something. She couldn’t bear to watch Jon go to the Wall, freeze to death at his post, waiting for the cold or the wildlings to kill him. 

During her time in Winterfell, she had tried to be mindful of her clothing. Her men’s clothing and weapons were frowned upon so she had stored away her breeches and tucked her axe under them. But today she wanted to be true to herself. She had spent the better part of the last year in fine gowns, in silk, in lace, in different colors. She wanted to feel like herself today. 

So she tied her hair back, pulled on her breeches, and a shirt that used to belong to her father. Orrina decided to forgo her axe today, although the temptation to carry it with her was strong. It brought her comfort but it wouldn’t be wise to walk around with the royal family, an axe strapped to her back. 

It took a while to find Benjen, she wasn’t expecting him to find him in the glass gardens, her heart wrenching thinking of all the times she had met Jon here in the last few months. Benjen was admiring the winter roses that were near full bloom when he saw her barreling his way. 

“Benjen!” She called out to him, urgency in her pace. She didn’t give him a chance to greet her before going straight into her tangent. “Jon means to join the Watch, you have to talk him out of it!” 

The First Ranger looked confused at first, dark eyebrows knit together until a sad sort of smile took over. “What makes you think I can convince him otherwise?” 

“Because you have too,” that was enough for Orrina. 

“Listen, Orrina, I don’t think Jon should go either. Not this young, but judging how strongly you feel about this, you know Jon. He will do what he wants. I don’t agree with it, but you more than anyone, know the Watch needs good men.”

“Then find different good men!” Orrina lashed out, angry fists on her hips. “Jon doesn’t belong there.”

“Anymore than I belong there?” Benjen raised an eyebrow at her. Normally she wouldn’t want to offend him, but at this point, Jon’s life was at stake and she didn’t have time to worry about anyone else’s feelings. 

“You’ve already said your vows. Jon doesn’t need to,” she shook her head, strands of hair falling from it’s tie. “My grandfather wanted us to get married, he won’t let Jon join.” 

Benjen sighed heavily. Teenagers. He couldn’t remember ever being this dramatic, and headstrong. But by the time he was Orrina’s age, he had already had his father, brother and sister die. She was lucky to be able to be this emotional over a boy. That she didn’t have more tragedies to keep her from being so passionate about his nephew. 

“Your grandfather won’t turn away any man willing to join.”

“Jon isn’t a man, he is still a boy!” She was shouting now, her emotions were simmering so closely to the edge, she was having a hard time containing them. 

“But he is man enough for you to wed?” 

Orrina let out a frustrated screech, resisting the urge to lash out and rip some of the plants out of their planters. “You’ve been a member of the Watch for your whole life, you don’t know what it means to love someone!” 

She felt bad as soon as she said the words, but they already left her lips and were out in the air between them. 

“You’re right. I don’t. I tried to talk Jon out of it, I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. But I stand by it. He would make a fine officer, but he is too young. I’ve already talked to the maester about it. You need to calm down, Orrina.” 

Calm down isn’t at all what she wanted to do, but she let Benjen’s words sink in. It was Benjen who put this stupid idea into Jon’s head. But he was also trying to keep him from going. If anyone knew what the Wall really was, it was Benjen Stark. She felt bad for yelling at him, for lashing out at him. Benjen had always been kind to her, and she wasn’t treating him fairly. 

“I love him, I can’t let him join. I won’t.” Orrina felt the tears spring to her eyes again but blinked them away rapidly. She would not let her tears consume her again. She had work to do.

“I know, Little Cub,” Benjen softened her with her grandfather’s nickname. It was a sure fire way to quell the fire in her. “Let me handle it, you don’t need to fly off the handle.”

Orrina nodded and sniffled, and let Benjen distract her for several minutes. He asked her how Winterfell had been treating her since she came to live there. They passed the time talking about his family, one he didn’t know very well because of his position in the Night’s Watch. 

“Go on, you should go find Jon. I saw him earlier, he looked just as miserable as you. He’s in the Godswood.” Benjen gave her a good natured smile, he didn’t smile much so it warmed her considerably, all harsh words forgotten. 

Quickly her feet found their way to the Godswood, half in a trance as she hurried to find Jon. She didn’t know what she would say to him, she had to make him listen but all her arguments felt jumbled in her head. Her head and heart very heavy and weary from her sleepless night spent crying. But she couldn’t give up now. 

Jon kneeled over the black water of the pool in the Godswood, eyes closed in prayer. Benjen was right, he looked just as miserable as she felt. Orrina stood quietly, watching him, mesmerizing the way his lips moved in silent prayer. The way his brown hair, nearly black, curled into his closed eyes. 

Orrina said nothing, but moved quietly around the pool and to Jon’s side. If he heard her, he didn’t give it away. His eyes stayed closed and he continued to pray while Orrina joined him, her knees sinking into the dark mud. The woods came alive around them, critters ran under foot, and she could hear Ghost off in the distance, twigs breaking under his paws while he hunted. 

It came to her then, under the eyes of the Old Gods. In the place where they were free to be with each other, without prying eyes. There were no words to make Jon realize he was making a mistake. He could be just as willful as herself when he wanted to be, and this seemed to be one of those times. 

When she opened her eyes, she saw Jon was looking at her. Once, she thought he was hard to read, her solemn boy, but now that she knew him, she realized how expressive his eyes could be. There was determination in them, but sadness. He really thought he was doing her a favor. Stupid boy. 

Orrina said nothing, but reached out with shaking fingers to touch his cheek. He made a move to pull away but she brought her other hand to his face, to steady him, to force him to stay and look at her. His eyes softened but he opened his mouth to protest. Before he could get the words out, Orrina pressed her lips to his. 

“Orrina,” he said softly, half a protest and half a sigh. Like the night before, his hands found her waist and pulled her flush to him. Her arms circled around his neck, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. 

Eventually her fingers found purchase his dark curls, something she had been wanting to do since she met him. Jon weakly tried to pull away again, even though his grip tightened on her hips, and his tongue cautiously sliding over her bottom lip. She didn’t need to hear what he was going to say, she could already hear his voice in her head, telling her that they should stop. Jon had wanted to wait until they were married but now he was taking that chance from them. 

Shifting, Orrina found herself straddling his lap, hands cupping the sides of his face. She felt his nervous hands hovering where her shirt was tucked into her breeches. There was a fire in her belly, threatening to boil over and engulf her in it’s flames. With no regard of modesty, Orrina pulled her shirt off in one fluid motion. 

Jon looked shocked, but his eyes darkened with lust all the same. All notion of protest seemed to melt away when she kissed him again, his hands warm against her skin. Nimble fingers worked on the ties of his tunic, loosening them while their lips fought for dominance. They broke apart only long enough for her to pull his shirt from his body. 

Her fingers traced over his hard shoulders, trailing down the plains of his chest. It wasn’t the hardened chest of a soldier, but there was no baby fat, just a softness to his muscles still. There was still nervous movement in the way Jon touched her, the way his fingers traced lightly under the hem of her small clothes, unsure what she was comfortable with. Unsure of what he was comfortable with. 

Orrina had never been with someone like this before, and was letting her desire drive her. For the first time since Jon told her of his plans, her mind was blissfully blank. All she could think of was Jon. Jon who was shyly kissing her neck, Jon who made her shudder and sigh. Hungrily she placed a kiss to his shoulder, working out a way to rip the rest of the clothes off of her body. 

She wanted him, here, under the eyes of the Old Gods. Under the weirwood where they found their comfort in each other, where she showed him how to throw an axe, where they laughed and fell in love. Their Gods blessed their growing love, Orrina knew that much to be true. She felt it in her heart, she felt it as Jon helped free her from her small clothes. 

His eyes found hers, a swirling storm of lust but questioning. He was making sure she was still comfortable with this, with his advances. In response she kissed him again, softly this time, not the kiss of a desperate woman trying to keep him with her. He kept a hand on her back, and turned them over, so her back was pressed into the ground beneath them, she could feel the roots of the weirwood under her back. 

Jon’s lips brushed over her collar bone, feather light and sweet. It brought forth another sigh out of her, goose pimples breaking out all over her skin. If Jon was truly a maid like she was, Orrina wouldn’t have been able to tell. Soon his mouth found her breast, and his eyes found hers again. Asking for permission again. The slightest of nods made him close his lips around her peak, pulling it into his mouth. 

A moan escaped from her lips, fingers tightening in his curls as his tongue swirled over her nipple. She was on fire now, the cold Northern wind didn’t affect her anymore. Jon was her source of warmth. Lower he continued, his calloused fingers working on the tie of her breeches. Orrina lifted her hips and let him pull them off without a second thought. Both of them were moving on pure instinct, and Jon didn’t look to her for approval this time as his fingers found her center. 

This time she cried out his name, his fingers working against her slickness. His mouth was pressed against her hip, his moan rippling over her skin. She squirmed under his touch, lifting her hips as he pressed a finger into her. It was a foreign feeling at first, but Orrina grew used to it the more he rocked in and out of her. 

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was low, and raspy and Orrina thought it was odd what he was asking until the true meaning of his question hit her. Again she nodded, eyes fluttering closed, the blood red leaves of the tree cushing her head. 

She had never felt anything like this before as Jon’s tongue circled her sensitive center. Her thighs clenched around his ears, her body moving on it’s own accord as she rolled her hips up to him. Orrina bit down hard on her lip, trying to keep from calling out, loud enough for the whole castle to hear them and see what they were doing. It was getting harder and harder to keep quiet, the longer he continued. 

In an instant, the world around them exploded, she wasn’t able to hold back this time. Her back arched off the floor of the woods, as a feeling she never felt before ripped through her. Her toes curled, her breath caught, and she was seeing stars.

“Jon,” Orrina called for him, panting. She was trying to catch her breath, but desperate for him all the same. Her hands shook, but her fingers still fumbled with the ties of his pants. He helped her, discarding his breeches and small clothes, still positioned between her legs. 

“Are you sure?” His forehead was pressed against hers, he was breathing heavily as well but his eyes were earnest, and open. 

“I love you,” Orrina insisted. She couldn’t put into words how she felt about him, there weren’t enough to get him to stay, but maybe she could show him. Being with him, like this, felt like the most natural progression, it made sense. 

Slowly, Jon pressed himself into her, one hand gripping her waist, while the other cupped her face. She had heard it was painful, losing your maidenhead. It was a tight pressure, more discomfort than pain. Jon’s eyes were clenched tightly, breathing erratic, as he slowly rocked into her. Soon enough, discomfort gave away to pleasure, filling the deep need she had for him. 

She moved her legs around his waist, slowly lifting her hips to meet his, encouraging him to move faster. Jon buried his face against her neck, her name escaping his lips like a prayer. Her fingers raked down his back, never wanting this to end. She wanted to die with Jon Snow between her legs. She never wanted to part from him. 

Too soon, Jon had to pull out, spilling his seed on her thigh, leaving her breathless and light headed. Orrina pulled him to her again, their foreheads touching as they came down. Lazily she traced circles over his shoulder blades, his weight against her was comforting. Orrina couldn’t say how long they laid like that, naked as babes, sweaty from their love making while the weirwood branches sheltered them. 

It felt like forever they laid there, but eventually Jon rolled away from her. His eyes raked over her, dark hair fanned around her, twigs and leaves entwined in the locks. They traveled down until he saw the blood on her thighs, a sign that she was no longer a maid. 

And then it was like all the air was sucked out of the Godswood. Jon’s eyes were still dark with lust, but now conflicted. “We shouldn’t have done that,” he sat up, reaching for their discarded clothing. “We aren’t married,” Jon started, looking anywhere but at her flushed face. “Not when I’m leaving.”

Quickly she sat up, tossing her clothes aside as Jon tried to hand them to her, all without looking at her. “No, you can’t go!” The moment had died, the drunken haze of their sex quickly wore off. She hadn’t come out here with the intention of seducing Jon into staying, but she thought now that they had come together, under the Old God’s of all places, that he would see what a mistake he was making. 

“I should stay away from you, Orrina. I can’t do this to you. To me.” Jon quickly dressed, shame etched over his handsome face. “I’m going to leave, to go to the Watch, and you can’t move on from me if I keep doing this to you,” his words were frantic, and stressed. “I don’t want to leave you, but it’s the only way.” 

She pulled on her clothes haphazardly, wiping away the evidence of their union with a stray leaf. “Jon,” Orrina started, after she pulled her tunic over her head, reaching for him. 

“No, I can’t.” Jon pulled away roughly, and called for Ghost. Orrina could see in the pain on his face, clear as day. “I’m sorry,” he was crying again and so was she. “I love you, but I can’t.” Once the white direwolf reached his side, Jon took off, crashing through the woods, leaving her alone there, tears streaming down her face. 

For the next two weeks, Orrina avoided the rest of the Stark family, and the Royal family. She was determined to try and change Jon’s mind. Benjen told her that Ned was allowing him to go, that he was going south to be the King’s Hand, and Catelyn didn’t want him in Winterfell. He tried to let her down gently, to help her understand why this was the only thing Jon could do. 

But Orrina couldn’t listen to it. They could have left together, gone to Bear Island and lived in peace. But Jon wouldn’t listen to her, he wouldn’t even look at her, or speak to her. As much as Orrina was avoiding everyone else, Jon was avoiding her. He no longer went into the training yards in the morning, only practicing when Robb or Theon or any member of the royal host were around. He ate his food quickly and excused himself from the table before she could talk to him over supp. Jon would arrive last for meals, so just he could get the last and furthest seat away from her. 

She thought she knew heart ache when her father left her, then again when she was sent away to the Wall, and then left at Winterfell. She thought nothing was worse when he told her that he was joining the Night’s Watch, but nothing was worse than him going out of his way to stay away from her. That hurt more than anytime Lord Stark or Lady Stark kept them away from each other. He knew how much it hurt her and he continued. 

Lady Stark told her that she was welcome to stay in Winterfell when the rest of the family left. She wouldn’t mind her company while her daughters were taken to King’s Landing, now that her marriage to Jon was off the table. Politely as she could, Orrina declined. Instead she packed her trunk, which was nearly empty when she arrived at Winterfell, and now was bursting to the brim with new clothing. She cleared her chambers of her belongings and any trace that she had lived there for the last year. 

Benjen tried to talk her out of it, tried to convince her to stay or to at least go back home to Bear Island, but she wasn’t hearing any of it. If Jon was going to the Wall, then so was she. Her grandfather could choose to try and send her away when she arrived, just as angry and broken as the first time.

Orrina wasn’t planning on going anywhere though. She would be there, when Jon realized the Watch wasn’t what he built it up to be, when he realized that most of his black brothers were rapists, and criminals. She would be there when he came to see this would be the biggest mistake of his life. She would be there to keep him from saying his vows. He needed to see with his own eyes what he was signing up for, and then they could go home, and be together like they were supposed to be. 

Everyone could try to talk her out of it, but Orrina would be there. She would follow Jon Snow to the Wall, and nothing could stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not much of a wait for this chapter. My muse is high and I've been anxious to get to this part of the story. Plus I didn't want to leave you guys hanging after the last one. I know my decision to still have Jon go to the Watch is controversial but I stand by it because I feel like it's important for his character. And for Orrina's as well. 
> 
> So I hope you don't hate me and trust where I'm taking these two. It won't be an easy journey, but they will still find happiness along the way. I hope you stick with me, I didn't get much reaction to my last chapter so I'm hoping you all are still enjoying my fic!
> 
> The scene with Jon and Orrina under the weirwood is one of the first thing I roughly wrote when I was planning this story. I always knew I wanted this scene but wasn't sure how I was going to get there. I really wanted to set the Godswood as somewhere special, and sacred to them leading up to it. It's the first time I've written some smut in a while so don't flame me too hard, haha.
> 
> I wasn’t sure if I was going to type out Jon and Tyrion’s conversation as it happened in the books, but I ultimately decided against it. It feels wrong copying GRRM’s exact words, scene for scene. Again, I want to illustrate how young these two are, and how teenagers aren’t always the best at processing their emotions and making decisions. For Orrina especially, she thinks the world owes her in a way. She’s not a spoiled girl, but she still is an angsty, lovesick teen.
> 
> Next chapter will be the journey North to the Wall. As always please let me know what you think, good or bad. It's what drives and inspires me to write.


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